I might skip tomorrow's update, but here's a nice long one for you. (that's what she saaaaid. or he said? lol)

14

For a split second, Edward and I sit unmoving in the dark.

"I feel like we're being Punk'd or something," I say in frustration. "You can come out now!" I yell to no one as if a camera crew is about to jump out from around the corner.

I can barely see his face but hear the amusement in his voice when he says, "No prank show. Just really shitty timing."

"You're telling me," I mutter.

I leave Edward's lap and stumble through the nearly pitch-black room, toward the window. I know I'll find surrounding businesses and apartments without power, too, because of how dark it is in here.

"The entire street lost power," I tell Edward, and he turns on the flashlight on his phone as he makes his way over to me. I call Alice and put her on speakerphone. "Your power loss is contagious."

"My what?" she asks, confused.

"I'm saying we just lost power. My electricity is out. The entire street is, too."

"Ohhh." She laughs right before she says more deadpan, "Oh."

"What?"

"The store literally just lost power. So I think it's your power loss that's contagious."

"You're the common denominator here, Al. Keep up."

"Oh, so I'm responsible for an entire section of the city losing power?"

"See, now you're getting it," I joke.

Edward joins me by the window, watching in amusement as I talk with my sister.

I put the phone on mute while Alice rattles off her defense, and I tell Edward, "Don't worry, we're not fighting. We like to blame minor inconveniences on each other, but it stems from love."

He laughs a little. "I have an older sister, so I get it."

I take the phone off mute and say, "Well, I guess you don't need to come back now since I don't have power, either. Bye!"

"Wait, you little brat. You have a wood-burning fireplace, but we have an electric one. So obviously we're still staying with you."

I sigh. "You're lucky I'm feeling generous. Consider this your Christmas present," I joke. "I have candles and a flashlight, but I need you to buy some wood."

"Why—is Edward's not enough?"

"You're on speakerphone."

"Hi, Edward," Alice says, not embarrassed at all.

He just shakes his head but fights a smile.

"Did you already get the pizza?" I ask.

"No, that was our next stop but I'm sure they lost power, too. So, now what?"

"Isn't there a tamale truck in the parking lot of the store?" I remind her.

"Oh, yeah. I can buy a shit ton of those."

"Aw, look at us," I drawl. "Working together to solve a problem."

She hangs up on me, and then immediately sends me a pink heart emoji.

Love-hate is how we roll.

"You're pretty hot when you're bossy," Edward muses, grabbing my hip to pull me flush against him.

"Should I be worried that you have a thing for bossy bitches?"

"No. I have a thing when you are handling shit. It's sexy." He dips his head to kiss me. "But I wanna help, too. Where do you keep your candles and matches?"

"Candles are in the junk drawer in the kitchen, and I think l might have a lighter somewhere…"

Turning on the flashlight on my phone, I look for the lighter in my room and eventually find it inside my nightstand. When I walk back into the kitchen, Edward has an amused smile on his lips.

"You realize every drawer in here is a junk drawer, right?" he asks with a faint laugh.

"Ha fucking ha," I say dryly as we walk around the apartment adding tealights to surfaces and lighting them. "So, I'm a hot mess. Is that a turnoff for you?"

"Emphasis on the hot," he quips, looking smug. "And no, it's not a turnoff. I already told you, I love everything about you. Despite the fact that you keep loose utensils in the same drawer as soy sauce packets and instruction manuals to appliances."

Even though he's teasing me, I don't mind it. But I fall silent anyway and soak up the words that he's said for a second time tonight.

I love everything about you.

We light a candle in the bathroom and then move into my room.

"What's wrong?" he asks, picking up on my silence.

"Nothing is wrong." I mean it.

"Okay…"

"Just… love?" I murmur the lone word. "You have an easy time tossing that around, mister."

He places a candle on my nightstand.

I light it.

He sets one on my dresser.

I light that, too.

The room glows making him even more attractive. He's soft shadows and intense, dark eyes.

"What—does that word scare you?" he whispers.

I swallow. "No."

"Tell me the truth. I can back off," he says, even though he moves closer.

I step back, my ass hitting the dresser. A few items get knocked over and the clattering startles me.

He's being the bossy one now—the dominant one—and I find myself loving it. Craving it.

"It doesn't scare me," I insist. "I love," I emphasize, giving him a triumphant smile, "that you have a soft spot for me."

He doesn't smile but his eyes shine. "Pretty sure it's a hard spot for you."

I'm the one who smiles.

The last step he takes closes the distance entirely so we're flush.

He dips his head to kiss me. Soft, sensual, sweet.

When his mouth parts and his tongue brushes mine, I add sexy to that mental list.

We make out for a minute. His hands cup my face and angle my head back so his mouth is harder and more insistent against mine.

"Have you ever had sex on a dresser before?" I ask, breathless.

I feel the curve of his smile. "No."

"Want to?"

A throaty laugh escapes from him, and he kisses his way to my neck. "No. With you, I need a bed," he murmurs, nibbling my ear. "And time. Lots and lots of time."

His words send a sizzling spark to my stomach. I'm about to vulnerably share some things I love about him, too, since he's been so vocal about how he feels about me when we hear the front door open.

"Honey, we're home!" Alice hollers out.

Edward drops his head against my shoulder and groans before backing up from me, reluctantly putting space between us.

"Sorry," I tell him.

"Don't be. I'm not in any rush," he says sweetly, pressing a kiss to my lips once more before we exit the bedroom.

Alice unloads two bags of snacks and booze while I light more candles, and Edward and Jasper talk about the best method to start a fire without kindling.

We drink beer, eat tamales, and play cards huddled by the fireplace. Despite their constant interruptions, it's fun to hang out with my family and I'm glad Edward gets along with them. A warm, fuzzy feeling overwhelms me at one point that this could be a normal thing.

Around midnight, when the fire starts to fade, we call it a night. I'm not necessarily tired but I've done my due diligence and entertained my sister and Jasper enough.

Now I want some time with just Edward again.

I give Jasper and Alice spare sheets, blankets, and pillows for the pullout couch. I expect some snarky comment from Alice about don't do anything I wouldn't do or have fun but in a rare moment of normalcy, all she does is thank me, say goodnight, and tell Edward it was really nice to meet him.

Behind closed doors, Edward lingers by my bed.

I love that there was zero conversation about him coming in here with me or staying the night. It was just expected.

Some tealights have burned out completely, but a couple are still flickering, offering the dimmest, softest glow.

"It's sad I have to dress rather than undress for bed," I tell him, a chill in the air from the lack of heat.

"Lucky for you, I run hot," he quips.

I smile. "Yeah, you do."

I remove my jeans but Edward doesn't look away. In the dimness, his gaze burns me. I pull on sweats and fuzzy socks, and an oversized sweatshirt to stay warm, while he stays dressed in jeans and his plaid flannel.

Under the blanket, we lie close, limbs tangled and noses almost touching.

"Body heat," I murmur. "We need as much of it as we can."

He laughs sleepily. "Are we supposed to be naked for that to work?"

"True. Should we strip?"

Another laugh. "As much as I want to, I'm not sure I trust myself and…"

"It's weird with my sister and brother-in-law in the other room?" I offer.

"Yeah."

"I think so, too," I agree, loving that we're on the same page and setting that sexpectation for ourselves from the start.

No hooking up will happen tonight.

But the second Alice and Jasper leave… all bets are off.

"Are you drunk?" Edward asks.

"A little. You?"

"I'm definitely feeling no pain. And if you wanted me to leave, I wouldn't drive."

"Like I'd make you walk home in the snow? That'd take hours. You'd freeze to death. And then what use are you to me?"

His laugh is so light and so cute. "So you'd miss me if I wasn't around."

"I wouldn't know what to do with myself. Honestly, I feel like you're part of the reason why I'm even putting up with Jane. Some days I go to work just because I know your sexy ass is there."

He groans. "While I love that, I also fucking hate it. Do I need to quit just so you do, too?"

"Don't you fucking dare! I will kill you."

"And what use would I be to you then?"

"If you die here, you could haunt me, at least. We could still be friends. Hang out every day."

"Friends? You mean if I were a ghost you wouldn't date me?"

I can't help but crack up. "This conversation is so weird."

"You started it," he defends.

"You didn't stop it."

He smiles in the dark. "I can't stop much when it comes to you."

The way he says it, so soft and serious, sends a thrilling spark to my stomach.

I use his loyalty to my advantage.

"What's my office nickname?" I ask for what feels like the hundredth time in the last two days.

He laughs, all throaty and deep. "You're such a brat."

"That's my office name—brat?"

"It's my name for you right now."

"Come on."

"Fine. You really want to know?" he asks, feigning exasperation.

"Yes. I'm dying to know."

He props himself up on one elbow, leaning closer and cupping my cheek with his other hand.

He stares so deeply into my eyes. There's so much tenderness there. So much affection.

"They call you…" He pauses for dramatic effect. "Popeye."

"What?" I shriek.

"Yeah. Popeye." He lies back against the bed, fighting a grin. "I tried keeping it from you, but you're relentless."

I'm so embarrassed and confused. "Why Popeye?"

"I think it was something like, your first day of work, you had a giant piece of spinach stuck between your teeth all day. So they started calling you Popeye."

"For fuck's sake," I groan and cover my face with my extra pillow. I do remember that though. When I got home and looked in the mirror, I was mortified, and a little pissed no one told me. Edward tries to pull the pillow away. "No. Let me smother myself."

He doesn't listen to my morbid request and pulls it away, tossing it near the end of the bed.

"That name was retired a while ago, though and you have a new one," he says.

I eye him warily. "What do you mean?"

"So, when I eventually heard the name Popeye, I stuck up for you. Said that was kind of mean, and they should cut it out. That got me a few remarks about why I cared so much. And I mean, at the time I didn't know you that well but… they started calling you Cullen's Girl after that. Mostly just around me, though, trying to get a rise out of me or whatever."

"We work with fucking high schoolers," I mutter, even if I love the new nickname.

"The more we got to know each other, the more I wanted it to be true. So I didn't really mind."

I press a kiss to his mouth. "Thank you for telling me my stupid office names. Now rest. I won't sleep a wink tonight because I want to plan vengeance for Monday."

He cracks a smile before turning serious. "Maybe you should use that energy to report Jane and all of the shit she makes you do."

I sigh. "Not this again."

"Yes, this again. You just admitted part of the reason why you stay is because of me. You're not happy there, Bella. What is it gonna take?" he asks, but I don't answer. "Do I seriously need to quit just to get you to leave?"

"Oh my God! No. Stop saying that because it makes me feel so, so guilty. You're so good at your job and you love it. The way you write is so seamless. Effortless! And the way you weave people into your stories… it's just really heartwarming. It's not just stats and sports talk. You're amazing."

His eyes search my face and his hand slides over my hip. "You read my articles?"

"Duh."

He doesn't laugh. "I didn't know."

"Now you do," I say simply, and we indulge in a kiss for a few beats, finding self-restraint to stop before it gets too heated. With our faces close I add, "I refuse to let you quit because that doesn't guarantee I'd find something better. I don't even know if I'm good at what I want to do, and you already know you are."

This doesn't sit well with him and he pulls back a bit. "What do you mean you don't know if you're good at what you want to do?"

"You put yourself out there daily and get feedback and have loyal readers. I don't create content like that so maybe this is a pipe dream and I'm better off being a servant."

Edward sits up so fast, it startles me. "Let me read something. Now. The article you're working on. Anything."

Panic pulses throughout me. "No."

"Yes. I don't give a shit if it's a rough draft or a few sentences of some idea you had or whatever. I will be unbiased and tell you the truth."

"Unbiased?" I whisper. "You made me come with your mouth tonight. I can't trust you're going to be unbiased."

He groans a sexy laugh. "Swan. Laptop. Now."

"It's probably not even charged, and we still don't have power so no Wi-Fi."

"I can use my phone as a Hotspot if we need to."

"God, you're just a regular, everyday MacGyver, huh?" I mutter because he has a solution for everything.

He looks around the room and spots my laptop on my dresser before grabbing it and sitting back in bed.

When he opens it, the room glows from the light and we both see my laptop's battery is at a juicy 80%.

"Great. I love that for me," I mutter, but there is a small part of me that's anticipating what he's going to think about my words, even if it makes me want to vomit.

"Password?" he asks.

"You're adorable when you're pushy, and you did finally tell me my office name, so…"

"Yeah, see? You owe me."

"My password is IloveEdward69," I joke, then realize I just said I love him and panic. "I didn't mean… I was joking. Not that I don't feel… I mean—"

His eyes light up, keeping calm as he says, "Shut up and give me your real password, Swan. Please."

I give in. "It's Remi1990. The name of my first dog, and the year my parents got married."

Edward tosses me a bittersweet smile, then logs into my laptop.

"Not gonna lie, I was expecting the first browser page on here to be vintage porn, not the employee handbook."

I laugh. "See, I'm a good girl. I told you I was doing my homework."

With a soft chuckle, he messes with his phone, getting the two devices to connect so we can have Wi-Fi.

"Okay. Now where do I go?" he asks. "Give me something to read."

"You don't have to do this, Edward. Seriously."

"I want to, okay? What have you been working on? What are you most proud of?"

I can't find my words. The ones in my head, not the ones in my computer.

But Edward's face is so expectant, so encouraging.

The thing I'm most proud of is like a grief diary. An inside guide to my brain and my heart, and fuck it. If anyone is going to read it, I want it to be him.

Without overthinking it, I open my Google Drive and click on a document titled "The Short Goodbye." At two hundred and fifty pages, it's been complete for a while but I've kept it in limbo, editing often because I can't seem to convince myself it's ever just right for anyone else to read.

"Will you read it to me?" he asks.

"Ha. There's no way I could get through it without crying so, no. Hell no."

"That's fine," he says gently. "I don't care if you cry, Bella."

"Will you just… read it before I lose my nerve, please? I'm this close to throwing my laptop out the window."

Before he can say anything or react in any way, I lie back down, pull my blanket over my head, and hide like the coward I am.

Like a psycho, he starts reading aloud, and I pull the blanket back to say, "In your head, Cullen. Read in your head."

I catch his smirk right before he says, "Sorry, sorry. Please don't change your password to IhateEdward69. That would wound me."

He coaxes a tired laugh from me before stealing a kiss.

"Just…" I pause.

"What?"

"I know at Target earlier you said I could talk to you about my dad. But... I can't," I whisper. "Okay? What you're about to read is the closest I can come to that, so… yeah."

"I'm about to read about the Charlie Swan? The creator of Candy Cane Lane himself?"

His voice is soft, but teasing, and so, so affectionate. So understanding.

Still, I second-guess myself.

"I can find something else for you to read but you said you wanted to read what I'm most proud of. And that's this," I murmur. "Is that okay?"

"It's more than okay," he whispers, settling in against the headboard and holding my laptop. "I'd be fucking honored."