Bella

Of course she thought she made a mistake. She wondered if Sean was going to follow him when he left, but when the phone rang, she answered it right away.

"Hello, Bella, Pastor Ray here."

"Hi there."

Well, that hadn't taken very long. She wondered if the producer had a life, or if her existence revolved around watching theirs unfold as she sat with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a soda in the other.

"Would you like to talk?"

Bella considered spilling everything—about not being attracted to the nicest guy in the world. How she was crazy for not wanting him. How her stubbornness set off an amazing teddy bear of a man who could probably make her deliriously happy.

"I'm just… don't know, Pastor Ray. Maybe this is all a mistake. Or maybe the show chose wrong. I mean in choosing me."

"Bella, I'm going to stop you right there. Do you know why we matched you to Emmett?"

"No. Not really. I mean, Emmett's really easy going, but…."

"It's the way you seem to balance each other out. You are an introvert, he is an extrovert, but you seem to have fun together, seem to be open to trying new things. Emmett's goofy, but you're very serious."

"Opposites attract? Well, the thing is…uh…I'm just not…"

"Attracted to him."

"Right." She exhaled a breath. "I know I'm crazy because look at him. There's something definitely wrong with me."

"Nah, Bella. The heart wants what it wants, and we appreciate your honesty these past weeks. At the same time, you admitted your relationship with your ex started out as friends. So, as the two of you agreed, things may just have to progress. After all, the last thing we want is to force you into a divorce."

She hadn't considered that possibility.

"Did they follow him?" she couldn't help asking. Where could he have gone? Maybe to a bar? To see his fire buddies?

"No. We are letting him be. But, we figured you could use some support right now."

You chose wrong, Bella wanted to say. You should've picked someone who knew themselves better…someone who wouldn't take a perfectly nice, handsome guy and push him away.

"What if he's done? What if he wants a divorce?"

"Bella, are you worried he's going to want a divorce or that it's going to be your fault?"

"Yes."

He sighed. "All we ask of our couples is that they put forth the effort in whatever form that takes."

In whatever form that takes? What did that even mean? That she wasn't trying? In fact, that was exactly the case. Emmett had been making all the effort. But, how could she make herself feel something she didn't? "Okay, Pastor Ray. I understand."

"We believe you and Emmett are a good match. You are both decent human beings. You both care and you're fun to watch together. I have no doubt the two of you could be very happy together."

All she had to do was try. Right? "And if he doesn't want to try anymore?"

"You both have free will here. Whatever will be, will be."

It would be her fault if she didn't try. They hung up and sadly, Bella didn't feel any better. Her hands wrung nervously as the minutes ticked by, and she wondered if she should call him or apologize or contact the producer…or just give up, take the fall, admit that it was all her fault…

Or if she remembered correctly there was a bottle of Merlot in the refrigerator. And drinking a glass of it would certainly take the edge off.

By the time she was finished with her second glass, she was on the couch dozing off when she heard the door open.

"Hey," he said, emerging through the door, larger than life. He held a white paper bag in his arms.

"Hey," she said, rubbing her eyes as she sat up.

"I brought some food—some burgers if you're hungry."

Bella rose and headed to the kitchen toward the open bottle of wine. "That was nice of you."

He set the bag on the counter and watched as she poured more of the dark liquid, filling it just below the rim. Then she grabbed a can of beer and handed it to him. At that moment, they heard the front door click shut. They now had company.

Emmett popped it open and took a drink, and they stood in silence for a moment. As if this whole situation could be any more awkward with Sean filming them.

"I'm sorry," they both said at the same time.

"Wait," Bella said. "You don't have anything to be sorry for. I'm the one being difficult."

"No, that's not true, exactly. I'm being pushy and that's not what you need, Bella. I'm not going to be that guy."

Ugh. Bella swallowed and set down her glass. She threw her arms around him. "You are so good, Emmett. What did I do to deserve you?" The scent of Old Spice seeped into her senses with the promise of a strong chest and arms behind it.

"Aww come on, Bella. Don't do that."

Painfully, she realized he was not reciprocating this hug. "What? Hug you? Tell you that you're good?"

"Nobody's perfect. And I'm sorry for leaving the way I did." He placed one hand on her back, but there was no pressure behind it. It was like they were strangers again. "I just needed to clear my head."

"I don't blame you."

He stepped away from her and grabbed two plates from the cupboard and handed one to her. Ouch. She'd screwed up so badly that now he couldn't even stand touching her. Nice work, Bella. But, it was probably because she'd rejected him first. She could fix that, couldn't she?

"I'm going to try harder, Emmett."

"Bella, you're just being you. I'm not blaming you."

"I know, but, you deserve someone who will at least try."

He pulled the paper pouch from the bag that held an overflowing mound of onion rings. "Why don't we just eat and give it a rest?" He took a seat at the round kitchen table and bit into his burger.

She took another swig of her wine and tapped on her glass with her fingernail. "I want you to kiss me," she said.

He almost spit out his food. "What?"

"You heard me."

Emmett chuckled, covering his mouth with a napkin. "No."

"Wait. What do you mean no?"

His gaze remained firmly on his plate as he picked up his burger. "Exactly what I said." Then he pointed the burger at her. "You know damn well it's just the alcohol talking."

"No, that's not true. We've drank together lots of times."

"True, but wine has a lot higher alcohol content. And that's what? Your third?"

"Maybe I just want you to kiss me."

"I doubt it."

"Dammit, Emmett, you're making this hard for me. I should've agreed when you suggested it before."

"I don't think this is how it's supposed to work." He nibbled on an onion ring, and Bella shook her head about how casual he was about this…as if they were just talking about the weather or anything that didn't matter. She was trying really hard to just get to that next level…some progress. Instead of being fearful, no, she wanted to break out of her comfort zone, and if anyone was going to help her, it would be Emmett McCarty.

"Maybe traditional rules don't apply here."

"Maybe they don't, but the answer is still no."

He told her no, and she imagined if the sting she felt was even close to how he'd felt earlier. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Emmett. When I said no before, it wasn't about you."

"That's where you're wrong. It was very much about me. And that's okay."

"But, it's not. And now, it's like you've decided from here on out that we won't progress."

"If it's going to happen, it will happen naturally. You were right before."

"I don't think we have that kind of time anymore."

His expression was so very smug as he said it. "That's no reason to be rapey."

"Rapey?!"

"Yeah, Bella. I'm not going to kiss you. No means no," he said, enunciating the words.

Her mouth gaped, and she heard the little snicker from the camera man. Dammit, why did they have to have an audience? Why did he have to call her rapey? Why, oh why, was this so difficult? Still, Emmett sat, unfazed, taking another large bite into his burger as ketchup dribbled onto the plate and making the loudest chewing noises. She took another drink from her glass, swallowing too quickly, which caused an eruption of annoying hiccups—a bothersome side effect of the wine.

"Now, why don't you bring your little inebriated self over here and eat the cheeseburger I brought you? I had them add extra tomatoes the way you like." Trying to hold back the hiccups, she exhaled and joined him across the table with her plate in hand. "That's right. Soak up some of that alcohol."

Her cheeks burned red, and she hiccuped again, but stuffed her mouth with french fries.

"So, we're going to be having dinner with my parents and brothers," he said as if this whole conversation had not just taken place.

Hiccup! "We're not through talking about this, Emmett."

"I am."

Holding her breath to allay the spasms, she pointed her toes into the hem of his jeans underneath the table. "Just one kiss," she said.

He tucked both feet away from her. "Stop. Please."

"Emmett!"

"Bella!"

"Are you gonna make me beg?" Hiccup!

His eye sparkled for a moment and his lips fell into a smirk. Was he entertaining this? But then he shook his head. "No!"

"You hesitated!" she said, pointing and trying to hold back another spasm.

"Yeah! I'm a man. So sue me. The answer is still no."

She dropped her forehead into her palm, and for the rest of the meal refused to make eye contact with him. And the hiccups had finally ceased.

"Do you wanna watch something on tv?" he asked after putting his plate into the sink. "I can make some popcorn."

"No." It was barely 9, and she was ready for bed, besides, how on earth did they proceed from here?

"Awww, the wine, yeah. Okay, well you sleep it off…and..."

"I'm NOT drunk!" With her frustration, a new bout of hiccups burst forth from her mouth.

He laughed at this. "Yeah, you're not sober either."

"Uggghhhhhh!" Bella stormed off, hiccuping again and wondering if there was any wine left in that bottle. Dammit. She didn't really want him to kiss her, yet the idea of him refusing made it that much more appealing.

She only felt the weight of his body as he climbed into bed beside her. Then far off in the distance, she thought she heard his voice whisper, "goodnight, Bella."

Emmett

He wondered if she was awake, and even more, he wondered if she was making those little moaning sounds on purpose. She wouldn't do that, would she? Normally, she was a quiet sleeper, but the little ohhhh's and ahhh's and the catches of breath were giving him cause for concern…maybe not concern, but definite interest. But here in this moment with the moonlight streaming through the window, she lay on her back, squirming, and no way, he thought, was she faking this.

"Um, Bella?" he said softly, "are you awake?"

Though he whispered her name again, hesitating because he was quite enjoying the show, even though he imagined that Sober Bella might've been horrified if she'd been aware of this. Emmett never imagined her this way and was becoming more willing to give in to her earlier request. He was only a man, after all…and Bella was his wife. Biting her lip, Bella lifted her hips, and since her hands were clutching the blankets, he knew she was not engaging in any private business.

She was dreaming, of course. And he was enjoying every second of this show she didn't realize she was putting on.

"Oh…yes, please!" she moaned.

Emmett enjoyed this front row seat as he lay on his elbow, and his own arousal was telling him that he was either going to make a move on her or head for a very cold shower. It had been weeks.

"No, I want you. So badly. I don't care anymore. I just…" she breathed, following it with a gasp. "Yes! No, they don't have to know."

They? The producers? America?

"I just want you." Her breath caught again, and her lower half was moving so much that the bed was shaking. "Please, Edward? Pleaaaaaase?"

Edward? EDWARD?! What the f&*%?!

A/N: Thanks so much for trusting me to read all the way to the end! Was anybody worried? Anyhow, this will make for a very fun conversation the next morning. Up next, is Edward and Rosalie, picking up from the kiss. Ahhh the drama! Looks like the alerts are still down, so check back here. Thanks to everyone for sticking with me, for following and extra special thanks to the reviewers. I love hearing from you and enjoy replying to your reviews.