A/N: Hi everyone! Hope you are all doing well. Pretend for Me was voted 2nd place in the TwiFanfiction Rec Top 10-thank you so much for voting! I'm honored to have been nominated ,let alone place.

Let me know your thoughts and predictions about Bella and swan dive!

Song suggestion: Closer by Kings of Leon

"So you mean to tell me that you've never played pool before?" Edward was dumbfounded, genuinely taken aback at my naivety.

I shook my head and looked away, trying to pull myself together. What had gotten into me? A guy had finally gotten under skin. Edward was charming, funny, and not in the traditional sense. No, a more mature, nuanced humor, almost quirky. He was so real, no airs about him. What you saw was definitely what you got with a man like him.

"Hey broski," Jake greeted as he slapped Edward's back. "Do you know if anyone is looking for a bag? Seth found a sparkly little thing on the other end of the bar," he explained, gesturing to Seth who was holding none other than my vintage Gucci.

I popped up. "Oops, that's mine. You can verify my ID. It's in the little cardholder," I added.

What were they putting in the drinks because I had lost my damned mind in this place. One encounter with a cute guy and I was forgetting everything, including my favorite purse.

Jake laughed and looked at Edward. "Don't worry, we trust you."

I furrowed my eyebrows and shrugged my shoulders.

Seth walked over and handed me my bag, and I placed it in my lap before taking a moment to look at my phone. Four missed calls and two text messages. Three of the calls were from my mother and the other one was from Alice who my mother probably called to "check on me."

I opened the text messages and both were from Mommie Dearest.

Call me. GMA wants to book you for a tell-all interview.

It's a good offer. Isabella, please be reasonable.

I slid the phone back into my purse and decided to enjoy my one night of freedom and anonymity. Nobody knew who I was. Nobody cared about what I'd done and who I'd done it with. Nobody placing their expectations on who Isabella Swan was. Nope, I could be just Bella.

"Nice bag." Edward smirked. I noticed he had sexy creases around his mouth too. The more I stared at his mouth, the more my thoughts drifted to what it would be like to kiss him. What his lips would feel like. I bet he knew how to kiss. Really kiss.

Shit, he was going to notice that I was ogling his lips. I bit my lip in embarrassment. Oh my God, Bella, could you be any more obvious?

"So how long have you been working here?" I asked, trying to take my mind off kissing and mouths.

"I've been here in some sense for about twelve years." His eyes scanned the room as he wore a proud look on his face.

He was obviously happy with his job occupation. Hard to believe somebody was okay with plateauing in life as a bartender, but he was cute and charismatic so he could get away with it.

Okay, wrangle your thoughts, Bella. You are not Renee, I gently reminded myself.

Wow, twelve years. I was thirteen at boarding school doing God knows what with God knows who. While Edward was working. That meant he must have been significantly older than me. I would have guessed him to be about thirty, but I was terrible with getting someone's age right. Everyone on the Upper East Side lied about how old they were. Between the lies and the plastic surgery, there was no real way to tell what age anybody was. Driver's licenses were often faked by the maturing high society women so they still had a chance to sleep with the cute young bartenders who carded them due to policy.

I took a sip from my drink. Damn, Edward was a good bartender. Best martini I'd ever had. Though maybe it was just his good looks and charming personality making it more enjoyable. Before I uttered anything stupid, I decided to just ask him his age.

"How old are you?" I inquired, leaning onto the bar.

My boobs were perfectly positioned for him to ogle and yet he held my gaze, his eyes never dipping down, acting like a perfect gentleman.

Edward chuckled. "How old are you?" he repeated, wiping the condensation from my drink off the counter. I should have used a coaster. Where were my manners?

"I'm twenty-five," I answered honestly, then took another sip from my drink. I had plenty more to hide than my age.

"I knew it," he boasted, his lips turning upward slightly. Dammit, now I was looking at his mouth again as he popped a peppermint in his mouth from the little dish in front of us.

I sat there and gulped loudly. What the hell had gotten into me? I used to be cool. Hell, I used to be the IT girl. Untouchable, fun, flirty. The ultimate single girl was what Cosmopolitan dubbed me a few years ago in one of those silly rankings.

But while there were lots of fun times, there were many things I wasn't proud of. I hurt a lot of people in the name of fun and trying to climb my way to the top.

And for what?

It only gave me a higher perch to fall from.

"Where did you go?" Edward whispered. The mood turned serious all of a sudden. I didn't need that. I needed innocent fun, a good time. No more heavy.

"Just thinking about how old you could be. I mean, if you don't want to tell me, I can only assume the worst," I joked, trying to take the attention off me and my crazy brain.

"Old, you say." He leaned across the bar so our faces were so close I could smell his breath. Edward smelled like peppermint and musk…and man. "I'll show you old. How about this old guy teaches you how to play pool?"

I bit my lip nervously. I wasn't good at things that required hand-eye coordination. Hence why I was twenty-five without a driver's license. Well, that and Renee always insisted on getting Jane and me drivers whenever we needed to go anywhere.

Thank God, I lived in the City. You never realized how much you needed a car until you left Manhattan.

"Come on." Edward walked around the bar until he stood right next to my stool, and he outstretched his hand, waiting for me to give him mine. "Jake, I'll be right back," he muttered over his shoulder.

Jake shouted, "Okay" and went back to flirting with some girl with a tribal tattoo on her thigh.

"I don't—" I started and was quickly cut off.

"Don't worry, I'm an excellent teacher. You're in good hands."

My eyes dipped down to his large hands, and suddenly my thoughts switched to envisioning how good those hands might be. I weighed my options and sighed. There was no harm in one pool game.

I downed the rest of my drink, grabbed my purse, and then placed my hand in his. "Lead the way," I instructed, smiling up at him.

He tightened his grip on my hand, the calluses on his palms a sharp contrast to my moisturized skin, and he pulled me toward the back of the bar. Before we entered the pool room, Edward turned back and smirked, leaning in to whisper in my ear. "I'm thirty-five, by the way."

I laughed and hit his shoulder playfully. "So you're not just old but ancient!"

XxxX

After two rounds of pool where I nearly damaged a certain appendage of Edward's, I came to the conclusion that pool was not for me. The round of shots that Edward had ordered certainly didn't help my coordination.

"You'll learn. It just takes time," Edward kept reassuring, but something told me, it was not going to stick.

We did on the other hand have good banter and he made me laugh. I couldn't even remember the last time I laughed. Really laughed.

Edward leaned against the pool table, holding the pool stick thingy straight up. It was his turn to show me how it was done.

Just as he was about to take his shot, somebody called his name from behind us. "Edward," the woman repeated, which gave me time to give her a once-over. She was a younger, redheaded woman with a cheap perm and a fake Louis Vuitton crossbody. A blond guy in Doc Martens followed closely behind.

"Hey, Vic!" Edward chimed, setting down the pool stick thingy on the table, as he went to hug the woman. They had to have been close, judging by the hug. There was a familiarity that was evidenced by the way she held onto him.

I never had experienced jealousy when it came to guys. If they left or were pulled in another direction, I brushed it off. Another one bit the dust, I'd say. So what was so different now? Why was I staring this lady down, furious she was talking to Edward? I needed to get out of here before I lost my everloving mind.

The man cleared his throat and my eyes turned to him. I couldn't read his expression and how he felt about the display in front of us.

"Oh I'm sorry." The bitch—I mean woman, Vic said as she giggled at Edward, barely acknowledging her companion.

My eyes narrowed and my lips turned down into a frown as my frustration grew. I had no control over my own actions when it came to this pull toward Mr. Bartender.

"This is James," Vic announced and looked at me, giving me a once-over of her own. I silently prayed that she wouldn't recognize me and blow this whole thing apart.

"Nice to meet you." Edward outstretched his hand. "This is Bella. She's new around here." He gestured to me as he introduced me.

"Hello, nice to meet you." I smiled, trying to muster up any bit of the socialite that was left in me.

"I love your shoes!" Vic complimented, as her eyes went straight to my sparkly shoes. At least she had good taste. Hopefully her affinity for attractive things didn't transfer to ruggedly handsome men who were good with their hands.

"Thank you! They are one of my favorite pairs," I offered in an attempt to seem friendly. I shifted my attention and glanced over at Edward. "I think I'm going to head out."

He came to my side and took my hand in his. "Please stay until I'm done making Vic's drinks. She hates Jake and won't let him make them for her, and she thinks Seth is infantile." He rolled his eyes and rubbed my hand with his thumb. "It shouldn't take long. Promise you won't leave without saying goodbye."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak and sound convincing.

"Thank you." He breathed and kissed my hand, before he walked out of the pool room to the bar and began making drinks.

I followed but didn't take a seat at the bar. Instead, I wandered around doing anything but sitting down and making small talk with Vic, knowing I would be stuck choosing between lying or laying all my cards out on the table. I wasn't ready for either scenario.

A little while passed, and I bit my fingernail, trying to figure out what I was still doing here. Normally, I would have cut and run already, but there was something about the soft way he spoke, the tenderness in his expression, when he asked me to stay, to wait for him, that I couldn't say no to. I was having a good time, and I wasn't ready for it to end. And if I was being honest with myself, I was becoming attached. To Bar. To Edward. To being Just Bella. This wasn't good. In fact, this was the opposite of good. But I couldn't say it was bad because that man behind the bar was anything but bad.

I had to leave. Leave while I still had a semblance of myself left. Prior to tonight, I hadn't had a connection with anyone like the one I instantly had with Edward, and it scared me. Nothing was supposed to scare Isabella Swan. Maybe Bella was different.

Ding. The chime on the door rang out. A crowd of people entered the bar, and while they lingered in the doorway, blocking the view to the street, I took the opportunity to make my escape.

This was for the best. Someone like Edward didn't need someone like me in their life. The best way to describe me right now was a mess. And who wanted a mess? My life was in shambles and boxes.

I didn't want to linger outside Bar. Those windows were big, and one look out onto the street would reveal me to him. I started walking down the block, looking for a taxi that I could seamlessly hop in without being noticed. Then I'd go back to the Plaza and hide myself away. Pretend like none of this ever happened.

But then I heard him. Edward.

"Hey, Bella, wait!" he called from behind me.

I was already running away, desperately hoping to find a cab. Maybe I should just order an Uber. As I hurried along the sidewalk, I cringed with each stride, knowing I was ruining my sparkly Manolos. They were a gift from Manuel himself. Double cringe.

I looked around for a street name that I recognized but came up short. Sighing, I continued on, and then I turned back to glance at the beautiful man, who had been following me for the past three blocks, and who was currently staring at me with expectant eyes. The same man who I needed to get some distance from.

Sure, I'd flirted with him after I spilled my martini all over him. He was a man, and I was bored. This was typically what I did for sport. But this man wasn't like my usual playthings. Which made sense because I wasn't the same girl anymore.

My reputation took a swan dive following the scandal. My friends didn't want to be seen with me in public, afraid I'd tarnish their names. I'd become a recluse since my return to NYC, in fear of the wrath from not only the public but also from my mother.

My overbearing mother suggested I keep a low profile, stating that the "incident" would be yesterday's news…eventually. Her exact words were "It will blow over, darling. Just give the world time to forget." The implication that I should please not create another mess for her rang through loud and clear. God forbid she lost her standing dinner reservation at Pastis and her title as co-chair on the board of every charity on the Upper East Side.

I slowed my steps slightly as I took him in. Eying him up and down, I let out the breath I'd been holding in since I'd left the bar without saying goodbye, breaking my promise to find him before I did. As much as I was drawn to him, I knew I needed to keep running, so I turned to head in the opposite direction once again.

Problem was, it didn't matter how far or fast I ran. I wanted him. I wanted to keep him.

Just this once.

Sure, I had all the luxuries money could buy, and I used to have the notoriety too. But I never really wanted a guy before. Guys used to line up for the opportunity to talk to me, hoping for the chance at a date.

They all wanted me. To them, I was a beautiful, perfect object. An accessory to their success. To their name. To me, they were something fun to pass the time. Something that could be discarded when I eventually got bored. The long blonde hair, green eyes, and toned body were easy bait for them.

All my life, I'd done what was expected of me. I went through the prep schools, attended charity galas, and then when I was old enough, I modeled for the Who's Who, having dinner and making connections with whomever my mother deemed best.

I was flying high off of the money, the fame, the status. That was until it all came crashing down with one wrong move. There was no forgiveness. Nobody looked at everything I'd done right, but then again, had I done anything right in my twenty-five years?

The problem about being up so high was the only direction to go was down. Based on the fact that I was lost in the streets of Brooklyn, I'd finally reached rock bottom.

His footsteps echoed off the pavement, and I could tell that he'd picked up his pace, moving on from walking to jogging behind me. However, I was fast even in my four-inch heels, so I sped along, hoping to keep some distance between us. For both of our sanities. I'd never felt a connection with someone so quickly and so intensely. If I dared to want him, what would that mean?

Our worlds were so different. His was Brooklyn and a bar. Mine was Barneys and baguettes. We might as well be oil and water—two things that just can't mix. Except I wanted to see if I could shake things up enough to try.

My steps slowed as I decided it was time to finally stop running. From this man. From the things haunting my past. From myself. I turned to face him and said his name in a whisper. "Edward." I was unsure what to say next, how to put into words all the thoughts swirling in my head.

I paused and found this gorgeous creature looking at me, looking at me like he really saw me and not just my beauty.

Edward was a ruggedly handsome, green-eyed man. A man who had no clue who I was or what I'd done. Or at least I hoped he didn't. Throughout our conversation at the bar, he never let on that he'd heard my name, knew who my family was, or why I'd been ostracized. To him, I was just Bella, and it was liberating. To finally be myself, and to not worry about being judged.

Taking in the yearning in his eyes, I decided at that moment that if he wanted me enough to chase me down the streets of Brooklyn for an opportunity for more, then I could want something too…

I started walking toward him to close the gap, to see where this could take us. Maybe I didn't have to be the girl from the Upper East Side, trying to recover from her fall from grace, and the man from a bar in Brooklyn, whose lifestyle couldn't have been more different. Maybe we could just be and see how it went. I'd never know unless I tried, right?

I mean, I was famous for my swan dives—what was one more?

Who knows, maybe this was not only what I wanted but what I needed.