Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer

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Where the Lines Overlap

Season 2 - Looking Up

(I can feel the) Pressure

Monday afternoon, I stepped into the locker room after a full morning of classes. My body felt tired, a lingering reminder of the weekend. Edward and I had barely left his room since Saturday night. Aside from grabbing food in the afternoon and some water later, we spent all our time in bed, pushing our limits and indulging every desire. It had been... intense.

A smirk tugged at my lips as I remembered the heat of it—Edward on top of me, both of us in the firm grip of his hands. His flushed body, slick with sweat, muscles flexing as he worked us both up... The thought alone sent a shiver down my spine.

I closed my eyes, letting out a low, weighted sigh.

God, even just remembering it made my body react.

"So, how was the date?" Mark's voice pulled me back, his heavy hand landing on my shoulder.

I turned, trying to shake off the memory, though the flush creeping up my neck betrayed me. Could he tell what I'd been thinking?

"Wow… Someone got laaaid…" he teased, dragging out the word with a grin.

I chuckled, feeling the heat rise in my face as I turned back to my locker.

"Not really…" I mumbled, fiddling with the lock.

He scoffed.

"Come on, Hale, you look way too satisfied for nothing to have happened." His laugh was light, but he gave me a knowing look. "I've seen that expression before—it's the look of a man who's been thoroughly worked over."

I laughed nervously, grabbing my things and stuffing my backpack into the locker.

"Believe it or not, I didn't have sex... technically." A grin spread across my face before I could stop it.

Mark gripped my shoulder and turned me to face him, eyebrows raised.

"What the hell do you mean by technically?" He sounded as confused as he looked.

I let out a weighted sigh, setting my jersey and tennis shoes on the bench before sinking my hands into my pockets.

For a moment, I debated whether I could talk to Mark about this. Last week, we'd talked about relationships, and I'd felt comfortable sharing a few things, but this… this was on a whole different level.

Still, he was more experienced than me, so maybe it would help. And I trusted him.

"Edward and I..." I started, shrugging a little. "Well, we spent the weekend, you know..." I raised my eyebrows suggestively. "Indulging our libido... heavily." Mark chuckled, and my face flushed. "But we didn't go that much further. We're kinda... not really there yet."

He looked surprised.

"Oh! So you've never..."

I shook my head.

"No."

"With each other or with anyone?" His brow furrowed, and for some reason, I had to stifle the urge to laugh.

"Neither," I answered honestly.

His eyes widened.

"You're virgins?!" He practically shouted in disbelief.

"Shh, Mark!" I glanced around, hoping no one overheard. "I don't want the whole team to know!"

"Sorry, man. But you caught me off guard." He lowered his voice, though the shock was still all over his face. "I never would've guessed. You're what—nineteen?"

"Eighteen," I corrected. "And we're not really virgins… I mean, we've had sex before, just not with guys. Only with girls."

"Wait, what? Say that again?" A smirk crept across his face, curiosity lighting up his eyes.

I sighed, feeling the complication of it all.

"Look, Edward only realized he was gay recently, and I… well, I don't even know what I am yet." His eyes practically bulged at that. "So yeah, we both had a pretty straight teenagehood. All our experiences were with girls, and we've only been together as boyfriends for a short while." I shrugged.

Mark let out a bewildered laugh.

"Man, that's wild..." He shook his head, a grin spreading across his face. "So, not only are you each other's first boyfriend, but also your first homosexual experience?" His tone was more curious than accusing, like he was trying to wrap his head around it all.

"That's pretty much it," I confirmed.

"Man…" Mark shook his head, chuckling lightly. "I thought I understood how special your relationship with Edward was from what I've seen and what little we talked about last week, but damn!" He looked genuinely amazed. "This is way beyond…"

I blushed again, unsure why. Still, it felt good. Mark's friendship seemed sincere.

"So… any questions?" he asked, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "I can help you with pretty much anything. I'm sure you've got stuff you want to know." He gave me a knowing look. "Why did you only ask me about the date?"

I shrugged, feeling more comfortable now.

"I couldn't just jump straight to sex questions, Wallon," I said, giving his shoulder a playful punch. "And I actually needed advice about the date."

Just then, a few of our teammates came into the locker room, including Kyle, who gave us a weird glance.

"We can talk more after practice," Mark said, lowering his voice but still grinning. I nodded. "I want to know everything," he added, his icy blue eyes gleaming with curiosity.

I laughed.

"What are you doing afterward?" I asked, pulling my shirt off and switching into my jersey. I noticed Kyle watching us out of the corner of my eye.

"Nothing. But don't you have work?" Mark asked, doing the same and catching my glance.

"Yeah, but you could walk with me," I suggested, and he nodded right away. "It's not far, and there's a coffeehouse across the street. I usually have thirty, forty minutes to spare before my shift."

"Sounds good, it's a plan," he said with a wink. Then, his eyes narrowed as he looked me up and down. "You're not practicing today, are you?"

"Nah, just a physio session with Arthur, then I'll sit with Coach and watch you all practice."

Mark nodded approvingly, like the big brother he always acted like. I realized I liked that about him.

"How much longer until you're cleared to play again?"

"Two more weeks, apparently."

"Hang in there, man." Mark gave my shoulder a firm squeeze. "We need you back in nothing less than perfect shape."

I smiled and nodded. He tapped my shoulder before heading into one of the stalls.

I noticed Kyle's stare from across the locker room. His eyes were locked on me, that murderous gaze of his unmistakable.

"What's your problem?" I shot back, my voice dry as I jerked my chin at him.

He squinted, clenching his teeth. Then, with an exaggerated huff, he muttered, "You," and slammed his locker door shut before storming out.

I chuckled as he left.

"Jerk," I muttered under my breath, turning back to finish getting ready.

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I got home earlier than usual that evening. My supervisor let me off thirty minutes before the end of my shift since she needed me at the bookstore earlier the next day for the monthly stock count.

On my way home, my mind kept circling around my chat with Mark—it had been pretty enlightening. We didn't get to cover everything, but we'd gone over a lot, and now I felt more confident about trying new things with Edward… especially after all the thoughts running through my mind. I didn't realize I had such… desires.

A wicked chuckle escaped me before I even noticed. I was already forming all kinds of plans—naughty ones.

When I got home, I carelessly tossed my keys into the bowl and threw my bag on the floor. That's when I noticed a bag on the side table, the bright "Francy's Drugstore" logo in red and blue catching my eye. A small blue bottle sticking out from the top made me pause.

Out of curiosity, I pulled it out and read the label.

"Lube?" I mumbled, a little surprised.

Just then, Edward walked into the room, his cheerful voice greeting me.

"Hey, love! You're home already? I didn't hear you come in."

I turned to him, holding back the smirk threatening to surface.

"Something you wanna tell me?" I asked playfully, holding up the bottle.

Edward's eyes went wide, his face flushing several shades of red. I stifled a laugh, not wanting to embarrass him.

"Uh... yeah…" he mumbled, coming closer, his gaze avoiding mine. "I, um... talked to my dad earlier today... about..." He let out a heavy sigh, clearly forcing the words out. "You know, what happened on Sunday... in the morning…"

As soon as he said it, the memory flashed back to me—my finger exploring the most intimate part of him, even if only briefly. The memory of that touch, feeling his warmth from the inside, and the closeness we shared, the sensation still echoing through me.

"Oh…" was all I managed to get out, the weight of that moment sinking in.

It felt both thrilling and daunting to revisit that moment. I was still trying to process how much it had changed us.

He frowned slightly and bit his lip.

"Is this… Weird? Do you feel uncomfortable because I talked to my dad about it?" His tone was apprehensive. His question hung in the air, revealing his fear of crossing boundaries I hadn't clearly defined.

"No, babe…" I hurried to reassure him. "I know you tell him everything and… He's a doctor…" I shrugged. "He has some answers, so… I'm okay with that. And besides… You need to have someone else you trust to talk about this stuff too, I know it's not always easy to talk to me about it."

"Do you feel like this too?" By his light and curious tone, I understood that he wasn't asking because he was insecure; he just wanted to know.

"Yeah, a little…" I told him the truth, like we'd promised we would from our last conversation on. "I usually talk to Bella, but… She basically listens 'cause she doesn't know much…" He smiled at that, and I smiled too. "I talked to Mark today, though… not specifically about us, but more about navigating these new feelings and experiences. It felt good to get his perspective, even if I was a bit anxious about what you might think…" I shrugged again, just a bit afraid of his reaction. "Are you okay with that?"

"Yeah, it's fine." Oddly enough, he was smiling kinda contentedly. "He seems like a very good friend…"

"He acts a lot like a big brother, since the very beginning." I shared the impression I kinda realized only earlier that day.

"I noticed that, the day of the game." He spoke while nodding. "When that player elbowed you, he ran to you with such a concerned frown… And later, after we met, when we were talking in the hall, he asked me if I was going to the hospital with you. He thought you shouldn't go alone, and when I confirmed, he said I had to make sure they did all the exams…" He smiled again, and I was kinda surprised by Mark's care for me. "I don't know, I just felt this… sincerity in his solicitude, you know…"

I just nodded, glad that my boyfriend liked my friend.

The conversation shifted, but I could sense the lingering tension of our earlier discussion still simmering between us.

"So, what did Carlisle say…?" I resumed the main conversation. "He suggested the lube, right?"

And then he blushed again… So adorable…

This time, I almost laughed, amused at his unusual shyness, but again I was able to control the impulse.

"He told me we could… hurt each other if we're not careful… He said that… there's a safe way to do… what we did…" He kind of stumbled through the words.

"And I'm assuming he explained it to you." I was a bit timid too, but I was putting up a front just to encourage him.

"He did." His flawless eyebrows arched high as he spoke. "And although I died at least five times while he was speaking…"

I chuckled lightly, unable to picture Carlisle explaining this to Edward with a straight face. Fortunately, Edward giggled, too. "I understood the need for the lube and all the directions he passed."

I continued laughing, and he joined in, his laughter warm and infectious.

"Yeah… I wish it could have been you instead of me listening to all that." He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer.

I craned my neck and kissed him softly. "Hi," I greeted, my voice gentle; it felt right since I hadn't done it upon arrival.

"Hello." He giggled, kissing me back.

I wrapped my free hand around his neck, musing about the whole situation. "Nice. So we're kinda prepared…" My tone turned a bit suggestive.

He nodded, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "So you want… to do that again?"

"Of course I want to do that again." I chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you remember how hard you came? And I managed to put just…" I paused as heat crept across my cheeks, mirroring his blush. "The sensation was so potent that it made me come instantly. That was pretty… intense."

"It was…" He agreed, his shyness palpable.

I let go of his neck and cupped his face. "So… are you gonna tell me the instructions?"

"I will…" His sheepish smile was the most beautiful thing on earth. "But you must be tired and hungry. You should go and take a hot shower first, relax a little while I cook." He kissed me again, pulling my bottom lip gently as he pulled back an inch to look into my eyes. "We can discuss it over dinner."

"Okay, I'll shower." I leaned in for another soft kiss, savoring the warmth of his lips before breaking away. I turned to head toward my room, the warmth of his embrace still lingering against my skin.

As I stepped into the shower, the hot water cascaded over me, washing away the remnants of the day. I closed my eyes, letting the sound of the water envelop me, and my mind drifted back to the moments we had shared. A smile crept onto my lips as I relived the sensations of that intimate contact, the bond between us tangible in the steam.

But then, without warning, another thought surfaced—a fleeting joy that caught me off guard. It felt like a laugh shared, warmth that lingered in my mind for just a moment. A shimmering icy blue flickered in the forefront of my thoughts, displacing the familiar warm grayish-blue.

I opened my eyes, confusion tugging at me, but just as quickly, I brushed it aside with a shake of my head.

What mattered was Edward, what we had, and the anticipation of our evening together. I focused on the rhythm of my heart, the way it quickened at the thought of him waiting just outside, eager to share more than just a meal.

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It was Friday already. As I stepped out of the library, the cool evening air wrapped around me, refreshing after a long day. Edward's car sat nearby, and just the sight of him waiting for me brought a smile to my face. But as I approached, a knot formed in my chest. His posture was tense, fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly, setting off alarm bells in my mind.

"Hey, babe," I called out, sliding into the passenger seat and leaning in for a kiss.

He wrapped his hand around my neck and kissed my lips softly.

"Good evening, love," he replied, but his voice lacked its usual warmth.

Pulling back slowly, I searched his face, trying to read what was wrong. The dim glow from the dashboard barely illuminated his expression, but the way his jaw clenched and his eyes drifted to the window told me something was off.

"Everything okay?" I asked, my voice softer now, hoping he'd open up.

He hesitated before letting out a soft sigh.

"Yeah. Just tired."

I didn't buy it. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel, knuckles pale in the shadows, as if he were holding back more than just fatigue. The quiet hum of the engine and the distant sounds of the city—the faint laughter from a nearby bar, the blare of a horn—filled the silence between us, adding weight to the unease I felt building in him.

I glanced out the window as he did, giving him a moment. His lips parted briefly as if he was about to speak, but instead, he wet them with the tip of his tongue, hesitating.

"So I guess I'll tell Mark tonight's not a good night," I said before he could find his words.

He turned to me, brows furrowing.

"Not a good night for what?"

"He's going to this club later, and he asked if we wanted to go with him," I explained, scrolling through my contacts. "Since you're tired, I guess it's best to stay in."

Before I could call, his hand landed on my thigh, gentle yet firm.

"Wait, hon." I turned to him, curious about his sudden change of heart. "I want to go out," he said, sounding more confident than I felt.

"You sure?" I asked, studying his face for any sign of doubt.

"I'm sure. It's been a while since I last saw Mark. And we've never gone out with him. It'll be nice."

I remained skeptical for a moment. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, making me squint involuntarily.

"Dad's home, by the way," he said, rushing his words as if to distract me from gauging his mood. "We should pass by the apartment to get ready and maybe have dinner with him first."

I let out a resigned sigh, a soft smile emerging as I placed my phone back on my lap and cupped his jaw, kissing him gently.

"So let's go home to have dinner with your father and get ready," I said, pulling back.

He nodded, the tension easing slightly as he started the car. As we pulled onto the street, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was still off. The low rumble of the engine and the faint hum of the city outside our windows filled the quiet space between us. Edward stayed focused on the road, his gaze distant, distracted. I watched his fingers grip the wheel tighter than usual, wanting to ease his worry. But I didn't push it. Maybe tonight would lighten the mood; maybe we just needed a break from whatever was pulling him down.

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The fast beat of the music worked its way into my chest, lifting my mood. Soft lights flickered around the room, bright enough to see everything clearly. I scanned the dance floor. No girls at all. I chuckled to myself. For some reason, it felt good being here, surrounded by guys.

They moved freely, dancing or weaving through the crowd in front of the booth where I was comfortably settled. Some younger, some older, all wrapped up in their own rhythm. Surprisingly, I didn't feel out of place like I thought I would in a gay club.

"I can't believe such a gorgeous boy would be left alone like this," a voice slid in beside me.

I glanced up. A tall, muscular blond, maybe mid-twenties, was giving me a look that sent a shiver down my spine—too bold, too hungry.

"Uh, I'm not…" I started, but his eyes stayed locked on mine.

"What's your name, sweets?" he asked, sliding closer, his arm draping casually over my shoulders as if it belonged there.

Before I could pull away, a familiar voice boomed from across the table, cutting through the loud music. "Fuck off, punk." My head snapped toward Mark. "He has a boyfriend."

The guy jumped up, barely glancing at Mark before he bolted like he was being chased. I couldn't help laughing, shaking my head as Mark sat down beside me, dropping drinks on the table.

"Thanks for saving me," I said, raising my voice to be heard over the noise. "Edward will appreciate it too." I flashed a grin.

Mark smirked, then leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. "What's going on with him? Did you two fight?"

I sighed, shifting in my seat. Edward had disappeared to the bathroom about five minutes ago. Said he needed to take a piss, but I knew better. He was taking a breather, probably splashing water on his face, trying to shake off whatever was weighing on him. His tension had been obvious the second I got in the car—too much composure, too much effort to sound normal.

"No, we're fine," I said, eyes drifting toward the bathroom. "Something happened today, though."

"Serious?" Mark's brow furrowed.

"Yeah, I think so." I leaned back, eyes on the drinks, my fingers tracing the condensation on the glass.

Mark tilted his head, studying me. "He didn't tell you?"

I shook my head. "Not yet."

"If he didn't tell you, how do you know?" His curiosity peeked through in the raise of his eyebrows.

I met his gaze. "I just do. Edward's usually calm, level-headed. He only gets this tense when something big's weighing on him. He's probably figuring out how to bring it up."

Mark nodded, the frown still lingering on his face. "So, you'll wait until he's ready?"

I shrugged, glancing at the crowd before looking back at Mark. "Yeah."

"Doesn't that worry you?" He leaned in a little, his tone careful but probing.

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. "Of course it does. I'm anxious because I know it's about me. Whatever it is, he thinks it'll upset me."

Mark's frown deepened, but his tone softened. "That's a good reason to ask him, isn't it?"

"I can't push him. He needs time to figure out how to talk to me without stirring up a fight." I paused, my gaze drifting back to the bathroom door. "He'll come to me when he's ready."

Mark studied me for a second longer, his expression unreadable. He gave a slow nod, though I could see the question still hanging on his lips.

"You know I'm here if you need anything, right?" His voice was quieter now, a seriousness in his eyes that he couldn't mask.

I gave him a tight smile, nodding. "Yeah, I know. Thanks, man."

"You're pretty rational yourself," he said, leaning back. "I'd never be able to sit and wait. I'd grill my boyfriend until he cracked." He chuckled, shaking his head.

I laughed too, feeling the tension in my chest ease for a moment. Mark sighed, his expression serious again. "You two have a really strong bond," he said, his voice quieter. "It's… impressive."

"We've known each other since forever." I shrugged, my lips pulling into a small smile. "We've been through everything together. It's hard not to be connected like that when you've shared every moment of your life with someone."

Mark's eyes flickered, something guarded passing across his face. "The way you talk about him…" His voice trailed off for a second, his gaze distant before he brought it back to me. "It sounds like the kind of love that lasts."

"Yeah," I said, my mind drifting to Carlisle's words from a not so distant past. "Edward's my whole world."

Mark's face softened, but I caught something else in his eyes before he flashed that familiar cheeky smile and let it go.

"Now that we've cleared the air, and since you're not storming off to check on your boyfriend still hiding in the bathroom, let's dance, Hale," Mark said, arching an eyebrow, daring me.

I blinked, caught off guard.

"I don't dance. I don't even know how."

He smirked, unfazed.

"Don't bullshit me, kid. You're one of the best basketball players I've had the pleasure of playing with."

I chuckled.

"Thanks, but what does that have to do with dancing?"

"You serious? The moves, the rhythm, the agility—basketball's all about that," he replied with a playful edge. "I've seen you weave through three defenders like it's nothing, knees bending, spinning around them like you're on ice. You've got the moves. Bet you can dance."

"I swear, I can't. I'm a mess when it comes to dancing. Ask Edward."

"Maybe you just haven't had the right motivation." His tone turned sly, his grin devilish. "Like your captain telling you to hit the floor."

"You're really playing the captain card?" I laughed.

"Hell yes, I am," he said, standing up and pointing to the spot in front of him. "Now, get your sexy ass over here before I drag you myself."

"Oh, come on…" I shook my head, laughing harder as he raised an eyebrow, waiting. I gave in and followed him to the packed dance floor.

He picked a spot just outside our booth and turned to face me.

"Time to move," he called over the music, nodding toward my hips.

I stretched up, trying to reach his ear.

"I told you, I can't dance!" I shouted.

"Watch me," he said, hands up in mock surrender before placing them on my hips. He guided me, side to side, matching his movements, hips swaying to the beat. I followed, watching him closely, focusing on his rhythm.

"Bend your knees," he said, demonstrating with a little shuffle, "like you're dodging an opponent."

I mimicked his motion, surprised when I didn't totally embarrass myself. I glanced up, catching his approving nod.

"See? Told you!" he shouted over the music. "Now move like you're on the court."

I laughed, shaking my head, but kept following his lead. His movements were simple enough for me to keep up, so I loosened up a little, raising my eyes from his hips to his face.

And that's when it hit me. Mark looked… different. Almost stunning.

Whoa—wait! Where did that come from?

I was noticing his appeal, and it struck me hard. Edward was the only one who had ever captured my attention like this.

My mind kept spinning despite my confusion.

Sure, Mark's height and well-built physique turned heads—even mine, surprisingly—but that wasn't what made him captivating. Alluring and handsome were the first words that sprang to mind, astonishing me. It was his unique features that drew the eye.

His hair was short, slightly buzzed on the sides and back, with soft waves flowing over the top, constantly falling into his forehead. The color was striking—a light coppery brown with golden glimmers that caught the light. It framed his face, which had classic ginger traits.

Freckles danced across his subtly prominent cheekbones and straight-edged nose, fading on his forehead and chin. They lent him a delicate look, softening his strong jawline and wide lips. His overall countenance was harmonious, giving him the charm of an Irish man.

But it was his eyes—his most striking feature—that truly drew my gaze.

Their slightly downturned shape made them look sweet yet sad. The piercing icy-blue color was mesmerizing, making it hard to hold his gaze.

"What?" he asked, a half-smile playing on his lips, curiosity glinting in his eyes.

I abruptly realized I had been staring and felt a flush creep across my cheeks. Shaking my head, I glanced away into the crowd.

What's wrong with me? I wondered, intrigued.

Mark seemed oblivious, lost in the music. We danced for a couple more minutes until the song shifted, and he stopped.

I looked up at him, catching his grin.

"This is my song!" he exclaimed.

I recognized the opening notes of Can't Stop the Feeling and smiled back. I liked this one. When Justin Timberlake's voice flooded the air, Mark wrapped an arm around my waist, drawing me close but leaving space between us.

"This okay?" he asked, eyebrows raised. I nodded, feeling as comfortable as ever. "Just follow my lead."

Then we were dancing again, and I found myself moving in sync with him, resting a hand on his arm. To my surprise, I was enjoying it.

And shockingly, I didn't mind that I was dancing with a guy. Sure, he wasn't just any guy; he was my closest friend in Providence. But I'd always thought I would feel uncomfortable with anyone else but Edward touching or holding me like this.

Maybe it was the fact that nothing romantic was happening between us, and even though our bodies were close, he was respectful of my space. Still, it surprised me how at ease I felt.

We kept dancing even after the song ended and a faster one began. Suddenly, I felt a significant number of eyes on us—or rather, on the tall red-haired guy holding me.

I felt a flutter at the thought, a twinge of something uncomfortable at the idea of those eyes on him.

"I think I'm screwing up your chances," I said, loud enough for him to hear. He shot me an intrigued glance. "Most guys are staring at you, but you're dancing with me."

He glanced around briefly, then turned his gaze back to mine.

"Yeah, I'm a hot piece of meat," he said, laughing ironically. "It's not me they're staring at, Hale. They're eyefucking you."

I pulled away slightly, tilting my head back to meet his eyes, which sparkled with mischief.

"And why would they be interested in me with you right here?" I asked, my tone challenging but with an underlying softness.

Mark offered a half-smile and shook his head before leaning close to my ear.

"You don't see yourself very well, do you?" His voice was playfully suggestive. He pulled back, his piercing eyes locking onto mine. "Have you ever looked at yourself in a mirror?"

I opened my mouth to retort, but he stopped dancing, releasing me while glancing behind me. I stepped back to look at him without craning my neck, and he met my gaze again.

"Edward's at the booth," he said, a hint of unease creeping into his voice. "We should head back."

It struck me then: I hadn't thought about Edward for the last six or eight minutes. I turned to find him seated, calm but with a watchful expression.

A smile appeared on my lips as I made my way back, Mark right behind me.

"Are you trying to snatch my boyfriend, Mark?" Edward asked playfully as we approached the booth.

I sat beside him, taking his hand in mine while Mark settled on his other side, a hint of pink creeping into his cheeks.

"Nah, you don't have to worry about me," Mark said casually, running his left hand through his copper waves.

"Thank God!" Edward smiled genuinely, the tension easing from his face. "If I had to, I'd be utterly concerned. You're tough competition."

"You think?" Mark laughed, skepticism lacing his voice. "Okay, so apparently I'm hot…" He chuckled, but his voice turned slightly awkward when he added, "But Hale is like a little brother. I was just trying to prove a point."

"Which is…" Edward looked at me, suddenly curious.

"He said any basketball player can dance," I replied, adopting a mocking tone.

Edward laughed, just as I expected, before turning back to Mark. "Well, not this one."

"Hey!" I feigned offense.

"Just stating the truth, honey." He glanced at me and back at my friend. "Jazz can be a bit ungainly on the dance floor."

I shot Mark a pointed look. He rolled his eyes before addressing Edward.

"I beg to differ, golden boy." He smiled, using his nickname for Edward—one my boyfriend knew because I had told him about it. Edward chuckled, amused. "He was doing pretty well a couple of minutes ago. Why don't you take him to the dance floor and see for yourself?"

My angel regarded me with curiosity, and I chuckled, enjoying the intrigued glint in his gaze.

"Go on, boys. Make these punks drool a little more," Mark teased, his voice light.

I stood up, laughing, and offered Edward my hand. He took it, smiling at me, and together we walked toward the dance floor, hand in hand.

Edward was "blissfully surprised," as he put it, after we danced for a while. For the rest of the night, we lost ourselves in each other, sharing kisses during a slow, romantic song, followed by more dancing.

Later, Mark grabbed one of the "punks" from the dance floor and kissed him senseless for what felt like ages in our booth, the sight pulling my focus in a way I didn't quite understand before he finally said goodbye and left with him.

Edward seemed to enjoy himself, his spirits high and laughter light. After Mark left, we didn't linger long before heading home. On the way to our apartment, we agreed the night had been a blast and promised to do it again soon.

Once we arrived, we headed straight to the shower, where we eagerly explored each other, moving in a shared rhythm. Afterwards, we cuddled in bed until sleep claimed us, and for a moment, I almost forgot that something was bothering my babe…

A/N: To understand the reference regarding what happened over the weekend, please read the last chapter posted in Where the Lines Overlap - All We Know.