AN: So, FFN is sending the email to alert readers that a new chapter is posted for this story, but the link in the email doesn't work, and many of you have to go through my profile to get to the newest chapter. It's happened for the last three chapters, and I suspect it happened with this one too. I have no idea how to fix it. I apologize for the inconvenience. Hopefully, most readers find their way back despite the absolute FFN fuckery.

And this fic is purely fluff. If there is any drama, it should be quickly resolved, and no angst at all. If that's what you're looking for, excellent! Welcome! Also, Bella isn't going to lose her baby or babies. I'm still undecided if it'll be twins. We'll see.

Also, also, this chap is coming to you later than I wanted, but the in-laws have just moved back to the state and are staying with me and my husband. Things have been hectic.

Much love to PurpleBrina and May Tucker for pre-reading.

Chapter Fifteen

-Pulling Rank-

"And then she told Vikki to refer to her as the main WAG," Irina explains to Edward and Laurent.

She's two martinis down into our six-hour flight, and now her arms are wildly gesticulating. Fortunately, we are flying privately, and she only has us as her audience. The game has been over for a few hours, and we are returning to Seattle. Some guys, including Seth and Garrett, remained in Tampa to celebrate their victory at a posh nightclub. The Seahawks have had an outstanding season, and it seems very possible that they will play in the Super Bowl in February.

Laurent chuckles. "I'm willing to bet her head exploded."

"Baby, I never seen that woman get so red in the face. She couldn't say anything, either. The hierarchy is ironclad," Irina says.

The WAG hierarchy and rules are somewhat absurd. Even though the term "Wives And Girlfriends of Sports Stars" is an abbreviation, there is a contentious pecking order that goes as follows: Main/Queen WAG, wife, fiancée, girlfriend, ho. That naturally pushes women against one another, and the higher you are, the more you should despise those less fortunate than you, like girlfriends.

I am the lowest possible rank—slightly above a "ho."

Thankfully, Irina had accepted me with open arms from the beginning, and I was so grateful for that. She prepped me on the politics, and although she expressed vehemently there are more good apples than bad, she had warned me that women like Vikki would be an issue, particularly considering that Vikki was once a Main WAG who recently got divorced and has been desperately attempting to gain prominence by putting her claws into an NFL player who is still unmarried.

Among the WAGS, she is well-known as a "Jersey Chaser."

After learning that Edward and Gigi had broken off their engagement, Vikki made an effort. That was her first preference for regaining the title she had lost, but as that route failed, she turned to The Seahawk's tight end. Garrett reasoned that he had nothing to lose because the pressure to get married and start a family in the NFL is almost as high as in the military. Vikki would be the worst thing to happen to a guy like him.

"After Bella set her straight, Vikki got all butt-hurt and decided to watch from the box seats," Irina says.

Thank goodness for that, I think.

It was a relief and made things easier without the constant tension of Vikki's negative energy. I was allowed to enjoy the game again. And boy, it was exciting to watch. Edward was terrific and pure poetry on the field. Coach Biers was right about the ball always landing exactly where Edward wanted it to each time he threw it. I knew he was a big deal in Forks, but on the world's stage, the man is unreal. Of course, I panicked whenever Edward was on the field. He was the target as the quarterback, but his defensive lineman protected him, and not once did the other team get remotely close to him.

Irina laughed as I squirmed in my seat but assured me, "EC is the team's princess. That boy is sheltered."

I am still worried.

Garrett got a touchdown, but Seth was the real go-getter and scored most of the points. By game's end, the Seahawks led 33-13. It was a fantastic event, and I loved the enthusiasm throughout the stadium. If this was my life now, it didn't seem bad. It brought back memories of watching Edward in high school. I still feel that sense of amazement and the yearning to be a part of him.

"You know what, you guys?" Edward grabs my hands and pulls me up with him as he stands. "We're gonna lie down in the back for a bit."

Laurent chuckles and raises his beer bottle in agreement.

Irina jumps out of her chair and gives me a bear hug. "I am so glad you're here."

Laurent rolls his eyes. After a few drinks, his wife becomes a little affectionate. I'm not bothered. It's comforting to know that she has my back.

I answer, holding her just as fiercely, "I'm glad you're here too."

Irina withdraws and falls into her chair. She beams up at Edward. "This one you can keep."

He smiles while putting his arm around my waist. "I think I will."

Laurent sighs and forces a smile. "Have a good rest."

Edward and I go to the bed and private room in the back of the aircraft. We take off our shoes and tuck ourselves into bed. We're facing each other with our noses, meeting tip to tip as he holds me close. The shade rivets my gaze as I look into his eyes. The way they alter color is absurd. They are currently the most delicate green.

He murmurs, "I'm proud of you, honey."

I inquire, "For what?"

"For saying what you said to Vikki."

"Thanks," I say, "but if I'm being completely honest, I'm ashamed of how I acted."

In response, he raises an eyebrow and cocks his head. "Why?"

"Because I allowed her to get to me and stooped to her level."

It was hardly my best moment, but I had gotten tired of people treating me like EC, the football God, wasn't something I deserved.

Edward says sternly, "You didn't stoop to any level, Bruiser. All you did was pull rank—and believe me, that was fucking brave of you and nothing to be ashamed of."

Irina had previously mentioned this to me. Most newcomers, according to her, go along with the ride, figuring that if they don't make too much noise, the WAGS will be more forgiving of them. But it frequently backfired. Bullies like Vikki take advantage of that slip-up to break you because it was seen as a weakness.

I smile a little and shrug. "I guess."

"You guess?" Edward scoffs as he leans away to look at me fully. "Did she or did she not provoke you?"

"She did," I say, and he gives me that look, the one he often gave me as kids when he was calling me out on my crap. I laugh. "Fine, okay? What?"

He places his hands on my face and pulls me into a kiss. It's brief but conveys everything. "Sometimes people need to be put in their place."

"And you want me to rule with an iron fist?"

"Yes," he smirks in a way that sets my insides on fire, "but in a velvet glove."

When we got back to Seattle, Edward persuaded me to spend the night with him and drove me to school the next day. After our victory, Edward had Monday off, which he typically used to sleep or go to physical therapy. Now that I was in the picture, he scrapped all that and picked me up after my morning classes. He had intended to take me to The Market for lunch, but our nugget derailed plans, so we went back to his house instead. My morning sickness didn't go away for several hours, and by the time I was ready to eat, the weather had gotten worse. Edward and I were forced to stay indoors as a storm from the south moved into Seattle, bringing strong winds and rain. Fortunately, there was a restaurant in the lobby of his apartment building that served decent hamburgers and curly fries. I ate half my food and managed to keep it down.

The rest of the day was spent cuddling in bed, watching movies, and making love. Around nine o'clock in the evening, I fell asleep in his arms. In my dreams, I saw the future face of our baby, and every detail was so vivid. With her sage green eyes, unkempt bronze hair, and alabaster skin, she was a carbon copy of Edward, as if he had said, "Copy and paste." When I awoke, her name disappeared after I had said it several times in the dream, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not recall it.

Today is Tuesday, and sadly, Edward had to report to work. I had hoped my full day of classes would keep me busy and my mind off him, but it was doubtful. Since I didn't have my car, Edward arranged for a driver to take me to school and then home. When I returned to my apartment after being gone for five days, I collapsed into my bed and slept the rest of the day. I had another dream about the nugget. This time, she was older, maybe ten, and playing catch with Edward in a backyard surrounded by pine trees. I'm there too, nine months pregnant and watching them from our porch. As I opened my mouth to call out our daughter's name, I was abruptly woken up and almost didn't reach the bathroom.

The morning sickness had returned in full force.

It was the worst at school, and I had to use the restroom four times. Everything had a rotting food odor, and the slightest whiff spiralled me. After taking a couple of Preggo-Drops, I went into my pantry and prepared some instant grits with gobs of butter and brown sugar. That was good, and I felt better as a result. But as the day wore on into the early evening, I missed Edward so much that it made me restless. I hadn't heard from him all day, and I suspected that Coach Biers demanded the guys put their phones in the lockers to keep them engaged.

I tried to divert my attention with movies, pointless reality shows, and texts from Alice and Irina, but nothing could take my mind off Edward. So, I went online and searched for him on Google. I wasn't shocked to see past images of him and Gigi, but it was surreal to see pictures of me at the game on Sunday, at the restaurant on Friday night, and even at the airport with Edward, Laurent, and Irina. It was strange to discover that someone had taken my photo without my knowledge. I didn't spot the paparazzi once, so either they were skilled at hiding behind planters, or I wasn't paying attention. But I think not knowing made the pictures of us that much sweeter. How Edward and I looked at one another caused a fluttering in my chest. And, of course, like the psycho I am, I had to open a different tab to compare my photos with Edward to his with Gigi, and it was brutally clear who captured his heart.

It simply increased my longing for him.

When I can no longer take it, I take out my phone and text Edward.

November 15, 2022 - 6:23 pm.

B: Hey, you! I just wanted to say I miss you and hope you're having a great day. I love you. *Heart emoji*

I spend five minutes staring at the blue bubble, which remains unread.

So, I shoot out a text to Irina.

November 15, 2022 - 6:28 pm.

B: Hey! Has Laurent contacted you today?

Less than a minute later, she answers.

November 15, 2022 - 6:29 pm.

I: No. That new phone policy is insane. Has EC texted you?

November 15, 2022 - 6:29 pm.

B: No. All my texts stay unread.

November 15, 2022 - 6:30 pm.

I: Yeah, mine too. They're supposed to get out by now. 7 at the latest.

November 15, 2022 - 6:30 pm.

B: Okay. Thanks.

Irina sends me an emoji with a thumbs-up, and I return to watching the clock. Every few minutes, I check that blue bubble and see if it's still left unread. How in the world did I survive without this man? He consumes all my thoughts—what is he doing, is he thinking about me, and when will I see him again? I don't remember feeling this attached to any of my previous boyfriends. Of course, that's not a fair comparison because even with Mike, I closed my eyes during sex and imagined him as Edward. Thank goodness, when I finally didn't have to close my eyes to imagine, the man above me made it painfully obvious how lackluster Mike's sexual skills were.

I mumble, "God," and cover my mouth with a pillow to scream. All the repressed longing is released, but it never truly disappears.

Ping.

Tossing the pillow to the other side of the couch, I grab my phone and sit up. My excitement deflates when I see it's only a text from Alice.

November 15, 2022 - 6:48 pm.

A: Sorry to disappoint, but it's only me :)

November 15, 2022 - 6:48 p.m.

B: Haha, no, it's okay. You know I love you.

November 15, 2022 - 6:49 pm.

A: You still haven't heard from him?

November 15, 2022 - 6:49 pm.

B: No! And I can't stand not talking to him. Ugggh. Sorry. I just miss him.

November 15, 2022 - 6:49 pm.

A: I know, Belly. I'm sure it's killing him just as much. That boy is crazy about you.

November 15, 2022 - 6:49 pm.

B: Awe. I hope so. Thanks, babe. So, what's up with you?

The text bubbles come up as she types but then disappears. It does this several times. Finally, her text pops up.

November 15, 2022 - 6:51 pm.

A: So, since I missed the game on Sunday, I looked it up on YouTube and watched it. First, that jersey was killer, and the woman next to you, Ireena, right? She's gorg! Tell her that I appreciate her work. And secondly, there's this hot guy on the team, and I wondered if you knew anything about him. Like is he single? What's his story?

"What guy?" I say as I'm typing the text out to her. Once I push send, Edward pops up on my screen as a FaceTime call. My chest tightens as I swiftly answer it. "Hey, you!"

Despite being worn out, Edward has a genuine smile that extends to his eyes. "Hey, you," he says, but that happiness fades as he recognizes my living room wall in the background. "You went back to your place?"

"Yeah, I didn't have any clean clothes left. Plus, our little nugget was being a pill today, and I just needed to be in my bed," I say, but that wasn't the real reason. If I had been surrounded by his scent all day, I might have gone crazy. At least my sheets didn't smell like him and pure sex.

"Oh," his frown is more pronounced now, "are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, I ate some grits, and she seems to like that," I say.

"Our nugget is a girl?" Edward asks, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

I blush and shrug noncommittally. "There's a fifty-fifty chance."

"Well, fingers crossed." Edward enters his car and places the phone into a holder mounted on his dash. He fixes the angle towards him. "How was your day today?"

I remove my quilt from behind me and lay it over my legs as I settle on the couch. "It was okay. Like I said, I got sick and had to come home."

"Only a few more weeks," he says.

I smile and nod. "Next week is Thanksgiving break, so that'll be nice, and hopefully, I can eat some yummy food. How was your day?"

Edward runs a hand through his hair and huffs. "Fucking insane. Coach Biers is being ridiculous. First, he forbids us to have phones — and I get that. If I could call you anytime, that's all I would do. So, it forces me to focus, and I still can't do that." He laughs, and it shifts to a groan. "Anyway, Coach wasn't too pleased with my lack of motivation and canceled all the game re-plays and made us do drills on the field. The guys are pissed at me."

"Babe, I'm sorry," I say, and while it makes me happy that he is just as fixated on me, I detest that it is causing him issues with his coach and squad.

"It's fine. They'll get over it." Edward occasionally looks over at me but mostly keeps his eyes on the road. "Coach took me aside before I left and told me to get my shit together. He says, 'I get it, you're in love, but football comes first.' If I come in tomorrow and act the same, he will bench me until I can focus on the game."

Dread fills my heart as I anticipate his following words, so I say them before he can. "You want to take a break?"

Edward chuckles while shaking his head. "That's not going to help." He directs his gaze directly towards the camera and right into me. "We tried that in September, remember? That only made shit worse. No, us breaking up isn't an option."

I try to hide my smile of relief, but my chirpy tone reveals me. "So, what is the answer? I don't want you to sit out the remainder of the season."

"Oversaturation."

My brows crease in confusion. "What does that mean."

Even as Edward replies, "We spend every second together until I'm not always thinking about you," there is a tinge of skepticism in his voice.

I scoff. "Trust me, I spent every second I could with you as kids, which made matters worse. The only relief of not thinking of you was our eight years of separation."

What the truck, Belly? I scold myself. Do I want to convince this gorgeous man to stay away from me? Sometimes, I can be such a bonehead.

Edward doesn't take them out and responds exactly as I hoped he would. "Like I said, that's not a fucking option, so we're going to do it my way and see how that goes."

I respond, "Okay," having already jumped on board, "So, what do you suggest? That we live together?"

"Yes. If I know you'll be there when I get home, maybe I can keep my head in the game." He smirks and gives me a side-eye. "Maybe."

I laugh and roll my eyes. "Maybe, huh? All right, then. Should I pack up some clothes and go back to your house?"

It only made sense for me to move in with him. His condo was closer to my school and Lumen Field than it was to my apartment.

"Only pack your clothes. I'm about ten minutes away."

"I'm going to need my car to get to school," I say in a panic.

As much as I enjoy being chauffeured around, doing it long-term isn't something I am too keen on.

"You can drive the Mercedes," Edward says, his smile getting wider as a thought occurs. "Or if you're outdoorsy, I have a 2023 Bronco Raptor you can use."

"Wait, a second," I say, pulling up Google and searching Bronco Raptor, and my eyes about exploding out of my head. "Babe, this thing is over a hundred grand."

He laughs. "Oh, that impresses you, but not my Ferrari?"

It's incredible how flippant he is about his money and extravagant cars. There could be some hesitation in me if Edward were someone I had recently met, but this was the same boy who had strapped me to his handlebars and taken me to the Forks corner store to buy candy. When I missed the bus on my first day of junior high, he was the one who picked me up in his 2003 silver Volvo and drove me to school. His past and mine were too intertwined for me to consider him an unattainable star. I felt strangely unaffected by his wealth and success.

"Your Ferrari is cute, but this Bronco? That's a tough dude," I say.

"If you're all about big bulky machinery, why did you give up that old truck for the Civic then?"

When I was sixteen, my dad bought a 1953 Chevrolet truck from his friend, Billy, to give me something to drive. It was loud, drove rough, and highly dangerous on days where ice coated the roads, but I loved the beast. She was the first taste of freedom I had, and it broke my heart when the truck's engine and transmission went out. The repair was expensive and wasn't worth the trouble. She wouldn't be reliable when I went to College in Seattle. So, after graduation, I laid my pretty beast to rest and bought my boring, safe Honda.

However, how does Edward know about that truck? He was being drafted in the NFL, nowhere near Forks, and I only posted about her on my secret Instagram.

Nobody knew I had that account.

I slowly shake my head with a sneaky suspicion. "How did you know about that truck?"

Edward leans towards the phone, and it jostles as he unhooks it. "I'm here, honey. See you in a minute." He disconnects FaceTime.

Getting up from the couch, I toss my phone on the coffee table, and go to my front door. He arrives at my apartment in under two minutes. I unlock the deadbolt when he comes through the peephole and swing it open. Edward wastes no time, swooping me into his arms, and my legs wrap around him tightly. He kicks the door behind him and walks us into the center of my living room. My lips touch his as he tilts his head back, and we kiss deeply, longingly, as if it's been years instead of hours. Edward tastes like peppermint, and it's addictive, quickly driving me insane. I'm needy and hungry for this man, squirming in his embrace, trying to get closer to him, but it's impossible. He palms the back of my head to keep me still, and our mouths are pressed firmly together.

As the oxygen leaves my lungs, my chest begins to hurt and tighten, yet I can't stop kissing him.

Edward makes the first break with a loud gasp. He is staring at me with wild eyes. "Jesus, honey."

"Why did you stop?" I say, putting my lips back on his.

He leans away from me. "Because we have to breathe."

I roll my eyes and remark, "Overrated," then pout when he lowers me to my feet. "Kissy."

"Fuck, you're adorable." Edward bends down and takes my face in his hands, softly pulling me up. This kiss is equally as passionate but softer and less urgent. When he finally moves away, his lips remain near mine and vibrate as he speaks. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I whisper as my dumb emotions overtake all reason, and a tear slips out. It runs down my cheek and onto Edward's knuckles.

In response, he kisses me gently but firmly, and his lips are strong and convincing. As usual, this quickly leads to an insatiable desire to touch each other, and to make love. Edward lifts me in his arms and carries me to my room.

Ninety minutes later, I am packing my clothes into a large duffel bag and avoiding the inner voice yelling at me. Edward's in my kitchen, scrimmaging through my refrigerator and pantry to find something for us to eat. It's too quiet in my bedroom, so I turn on my Bluetooth and listen to music from my playlist. The upbeat sounds of AJR distract me from addressing the massive elephant in the room. That big guy has been staring at me for the past ten minutes and saying, "Yo, dummy, are you going to realize that moving in with your baby daddy/boyfriend of a week is a huge step?"

Actually, no.

I didn't want to think about this life-altering decision. All my thoughts were on Edward and how much I wanted to be with him. From the outside looking in, one might think we were moving too fast, but what they failed to realize is that I've been wanting this for fifteen years. Therefore, our relationship wasn't going at warp speed like some might think. It's been moving at a snail's pace, and finally, finally getting somewhere.

Edward might not remember, but after we got married as kids, we would play house in his backyard. Emmett was there sometimes as our butler, but he complained the entire time and hassled Edward until he agreed to play Call of Duty with him. Those little moments I treasured because I took our 'pretending' as real life. It wasn't just a game to me. I didn't think it was from him, either. Not until one day, a girl around fifteen moved in next door to Edward. What was her name...? I think it was Lisa or something starting with an 'L.' Anyway, she ruined everything with her perfect body and big boobs, and before I knew it, my brother and Edward were ditching me to hang out with her.

"Hey, Bruiser." Edward raps his knuckles on my door and pokes his head into the room. "The food is ready."

"Okay, thanks," I say, but by my slumped posture and the sound of my voice, Edward's antennas go up.

"What's wrong?" He sits next to me on the bed and rubs my back. "Are you okay?"

As I open my mouth to say, "Yeah, sure, whatever," a flash of the last day we played husband and wife blinds me.

It was a few months after the wedding and peak summer in Forks, so the weather was a scorching seventy-three degrees. Edward's dad had finished the treehouse, so we were all up there, you know, arranging our home. As GEN-Z kids, we bucked the traditional husband and wife roles. So, Emmett, our butler, was begrudgingly making dinner, and Edward and I were doing taxes. Thinking back on it now, it's silly, but we were kids and didn't know what married people did and were only copying our parents. In the midst of us trying to decide how actually to do taxes, Emmett looks out the treehouse window and towards the next door's backyard. That's when he spotted her. I can pinpoint the exact moment when things between us three changed; it was right then, and it would last for years and years. Suddenly, Bruiser wasn't his wife but his little sister, sometimes a pest.

Although Edward was always nice to me, we were never in that treehouse again, and that closeness we shared slowly faded.

We were getting our second chance to play house, but for real now — and figuring out what to pay the IRS is the last thing I want to do with this man.

I burst out laughing, and Edward stared at me, confused.

"Honey, are you sure you're okay?" he asks.

"I'm just thinking about us as kids and doing taxes," I say.

He chuckles. "I'm still lost."

Turning my body towards him, where my knees rest against his thighs, I drape my arms over his shoulders. "Did you hook up with your next-door neighbor?"

This comes out of left field for him, and he stutters his reply, "What? Who? What neighbor?"

"In Forks, when we were younger. That girl who moved in next door to you the summer before eighth grade."

His eyes search for that memory, and then he turns to me. "Are you talking about Leah?"

"Leah! Yes, thank you. I knew it started with an 'L.' So, did you?" I ask again.

Edward shakes his head. "No. Emmett did. I didn't, though."

"You didn't? Really?"

"Why do you say it like that?"

"Well, I find it hard to believe, that's all. She liked you, so why wouldn't you date her? Leah was hot."

He quirks an eyebrow. "How did you know she liked me?"

"Oh, please, babe. All the girls liked you, and that little hussy was no different."

"Hussy?" Edward laughs.

I shrug and make no apology. "Besides, I have it on good authority that you kissed her." It was the first of many breaks in my little heart.

He continues with a long, tired sigh. "No, she tried to kiss me, but I backed out at the last second."

"That's not what you told Em," I say, playfully poking him on the nose.

"How many times have you spied on us?" Edward asks, gently brushing my finger away.

My face blushes a deep crimson. "More than you want to know."

"Where is all this coming from?"

I take a deep breath and lay it all out for him. Edward listens as I rehash the past and explain what led me down memory lane. For his part, he doesn't look angry or annoyed, but with every feeling I share with him, his eyes turn more tender. By the time I am done, he's got his hands rested on my neck, and his forehead pressed to mine.

"You know, playing football was my excuse not to get involved in relationships. I didn't have time for girls or whatever I said to them. Hell, I even used that tired line in college," Edward murmurs, occasionally kissing my lips. It's sweet and heartfelt and causes a lump of emotion in my throat. "Gigi only happened because I thought I lost you."

"Football wasn't why you broke up with Tanya and Kate?" I ask.

"I used it as an excuse, but no, it's not why."

When I was eleven, or maybe even twelve, I remember Emmett asking Edward why he didn't date more girls. At the time, he had only dated Tanya, which was brief. There was no one before or after that for years.

Edward laughed, playing it off, and said, "All I want to do is play football. I don't have time for girls."

Of course, my brother didn't believe him and kept pushing until, eventually, he bugged him so much that Edward snapped at him. "Why don't you date more girls?"

My brother, who committed his whole life to Rose at fourteen, seemed confused by the question and answered, "I already found the girl I want."

Edward replied, "Yeah, well. Me, too."

And that only made Emmett more curious. He pushed, "Who, who?"

That crushed me, thinking that Edward loved someone, and I didn't wait around for the answer. No, poor sad me, went to my room and sobbed into my Team Gale pillow.

Pulling slightly away from him now, I'm piecing things together. "You held back with them because of me?"

"Yes and no. You see, back then, I wouldn't allow myself to think it was because of you. I forced myself to believe in the lie. But yeah, in hindsight, I didn't like those girls as much as I liked you. That's why I went for the ones who looked nothing like my Bruiser," he said, his knuckles softy going down my cheek, to my shoulders, and across my chest. His eyes flash back to mine. "I was going down to Forks for your eighteenth birthday, but I got drafted, and football took over my life."

As I'm listening, and the way he talks about the previous relationships, it dawns on me. "You were a virgin when you graduated high school, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I was." He laughs a little. His face flushes with embarrassment. "It took me until my sophomore year of college."

My eyes go wide, and I point to myself. "That's when I lost mine."

However, I can see how he doesn't want to know the details, and if I'm being honest, I don't want to know about his experiences, either.

"So, nothing happened between you and Leah," I say.

"Yeah, she tried to kiss me, but when I dodged her advances, she kneed me pretty hard in the nuts."

I burst out laughing but quickly cover my mouth to stop it. "I'm sorry." My head shakes slowly. "That's not funny."

His stern face breaks into a smile, and we're laughing suddenly and uncontrollably. I wonder how many girls he turned down and if they responded similarly.

"Now you know," Edward says. "I've been yours since the day we met." He holds the sides of my face and refuses to let me go. "Can we finally put this shit to rest?"

AN: So, they're moving in together. Yay! I get so wrapped up in these two that I forget there are other characters to play with, but I will eventually loop everyone back in. If there's an outtake of EC you want, let me know. Thanks for reading. See you soon.