Warning: sooo much banter and flirting ahead lol

I'm flying to Austin next Friday so hoping I can update on Thursday next week! Thanks for all the love, y'all :3

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twenty-one
everything has changed
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Edward: Motivate me to get up and run.

I get his text early Monday morning while on my Peloton.

We didn't talk all weekend. After our FaceTime on Thursday night, I didn't let myself reach out. Because of my murky, confusing feelings, I told myself it was better if I didn't initiate contact, like it'll be less shitty of me in the end if I'm not the one pursuing him.

Since he's the one who just reached out first, I tell myself it's okay if I indulge in this.

Feeling spicy, I snap a selfie of myself in my sports bra and send it to him. It's not overly sexual but a mild thirst trap.

Bella: Pic for motivation. Get out of bed, lazy.

He doesn't have to send a selfie for me to imagine him shirtless in bed, hair a wreck, and face kissed by scruff.

Edward: Thank you for that confirmation.

Bella: What confirmation?

Edward: That you're cute in the mornings.

I can't lie; I eat up the compliment.

Edward: You working out?

Bella: Yeah, just hopped on five minutes ago. I need to release some tension.

I type it without thinking about how dirty it sounds. But Edward doesn't poke fun at me for it or make a lewd suggestion, maybe because he's a man and not a jerk trying to get into my pants.

Edward: Go on a run with me.

Bella: Right now?

Edward: Yeah? A running partner is the best motivation for me to get my ass out of bed. I can head over in a few.

Bella: Where do you run?

Edward: Wherever you want.

Bella: That would be convenient because I have something for you.

Edward: You do?

I grabbed him a 6-pack of white tees from Costco over the weekend, mostly as an inside joke.

Bella: Yep. Meet me by the dock at Greenlake in fifteen.

Edward: Sounds good.

Hopping off my stationary bike, I dab some concealer under my eyes, throw my hair into a ponytail, and put on some tinted chapstick.

This impromptu run might make me a little late for work, but that's fine because my first client isn't until ten.

I beat Edward to the dock, shivering when the breeze blows. Fog ghosts the eerily still lake, but the bite in the air will soften by noon when the sun comes out.

"Hey, you," I hear from behind me.

I spin around to find Edward heading my way. He's in a heather gray T-shirt, black athletic shorts, and Nikes. A backward baseball cap graces his head, and a dark shadow caresses his cheeks and jaw like he skipped shaving.

I'm unsure if it's the lack of seeing him for a few days or my traitor feelings, but a dangerous, delicious yearning squeezes my chest. It feels good. And it hurts.

He's just so fucking attractive.

We don't greet one another with anything other than our eyes meeting. No hugs, no pecks on the cheek.

"Where's the sports bra?" he asks.

"It's chilly," I tell him, gesturing toward my fitted zip-up jacket. "And you asked for motivation. Not a distraction. So I covered up."

He laughs. "Ah, fair. But we're about to work up a sweat. You don't think you'll get too warm?"

"Nope. This jacket is breathable and sweat-wicking."

"Wow, fully loaded with all the bells and whistles." He bites back a grin as he stares down at me. "Must've cost a pretty penny."

"Well, it's not $750 or anything," I toss out, earning myself another deep laugh from him.

"Where's my present?" He eyes my empty hands. "Wait. Are you my present?" he jokes, his eyes dancing with amusement.

I push at his stomach, my fingers brushing soft cotton. "You wish. I got you a 6-pack of Costco shirts so you can start blending in like a normal person."

He scoffs. "What if I like standing out?"

"Trust me, a $5 T-shirt won't hinder you," I mutter. "They're in my car; I'll give them to you when we leave."

We fall into step, heading toward the trail. The morning is calm and quiet, and only a few people are ahead of us on the loop surrounding the lake.

"You ready?" he asks, looking at me. "We can warm up first."

"I don't need to warm up, but if you do…"

He gently tugs on my ponytail, sending a flirtatious flicker to my lower stomach. "Get moving."

We run side by side for a few minutes, gravel crunching under our shoes.

"It's a good thing you met up with me," he says, speaking with ease as he jogs. "This is probably the last Monday I'll be able to run at a normal time. I'm going to reach out to the scheduler and start operating again next week."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's time. I'm ready."

"It's gonna be weird not having full access to you whenever I want," I breathe out, having a more challenging time not sounding like I'm dying while keeping pace with him. "But I guess for the sake of others and their health, I can sacrifice my time with you."

"That's very selfless of you," he says, amused. "Even if my schedule changes, that doesn't mean we won't see each other. I want us to keep hanging out whenever we can. As much as you want."

It's a sweet thing to say, and I didn't realize I needed that reassurance until he said it.

After another minute, I'm over this whole running thing and say, "You can run ahead of me if you want."

"Nah, it's fine."

"No," I insist, slowing my pace to walk. "Go catch those endorphins. Get that runner's high."

He laughs, jogging a circle around me. "Are you trying to get rid of me, Bella?"

"Not at all. Just want you to get an optimal workout."

He glances at me, then slows to a stop, so he's walking beside me. "You don't like running, do you?"

"I hate it," I sheepishly admit.

"But you work out."

"Yeah, but I don't run like a psycho. I walk, do yoga, and cycle. The only reason why I'd run is if someone were chasing me. Or if, like, a bird was attacking me."

"You should've told me." I shrug, and he smugly adds, "But I guess… you just wanted to see me, huh?"

I ignore his statement. "You enjoy running?"

"Nah. I'm not a fucking psycho," he jokes, making me smile. "It's just something to do. Something to achieve, I guess. Marathons, half-marathons. Something to torture myself with."

"Ohhh. Broody Batman vibes," I murmur.

"Yeah, yeah. So we walking?"

"Don't make it sound so lame. We can walk fast if your heart desires speed."

He smiles at the ground and then looks at me. "I'm fine taking it easy. What'd you do this weekend?"

Jasper's still away, so it was a quiet weekend. He did reach out on Saturday, though, saying he finally bought a charger and that he's extending his trip for a week. He hit it off with some backpackers at a local bar in Leavenworth and tagged along with them for some hiking adventure.

"Not a lot," I finally say. "Slept in, ran errands. I propagated my fiddle fig a few weeks ago, and the clippings were ready to be potted. So if you need indoor plants for your place, I'm your girl."

"I gotta be honest, I have no idea what you just said. But the last part about being my girl, yeah. That sounds highly intriguing."

I trip over nothing, losing my footing. Edward reaches out for my elbow, righting me.

"Your flirting is off the charts today," I accuse, but I don't hate it.

"We went a few days without seeing each other, so I have to make up for it," he explains. "If you're offering me plants, though, I want to say yes, but I worry for their health. If you promise to water them when you come over, then sure."

"I have faith that you can water plants."

He grins slyly. "Oh, I definitely can. It's just an excuse to have you come over."

I shake my head, my stomach somersaulting with flirtatious energy. "What'd you do this weekend?"

"Not a lot," he echoes but doesn't expand like I did.

"Come on. Give me more than that. We didn't talk all weekend, and I was curious what you were doing."

His elbow accidentally brushes my arm. "You know, you can just say you missed me," he teases. "On Friday, I had some meetings. Thought about you. Saturday, I got groceries and thought about you. Later that night, I met up with someone. Thought about you. Are you sensing a theme here?"

"Oh, please," I drawl, not buying it.

He just smiles. "On Sunday, I had brunch with my mom. It was a little painful because—"

"You thought about me?"

He exhales a laugh. "No. I was hungover."

"Oh." A spark of possessiveness ignites in my stomach. "So, who was this person you went out with on Saturday night? A friend?"

"No, I wouldn't call him that," he says, his tone indecipherable, but knowing he wasn't out with a woman eases my jealousy. I mean, curiosity. "You know the saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer? It was more like that."

I'm not unfamiliar with that mindset. It's brought me to engage with Edward, even if he doesn't feel like the enemy anymore.

"You don't have enemies," I say, cautious.

"You'd be surprised," he mumbles, almost self-deprecatingly.

It's so vague, and there's an aura of sadness surrounding him.

"Who wouldn't like you?" I ask, knowing it's ironic that I feel slightly protective. "I'll fight them."

"Save your energy," he laughs. "But I wasn't lying and did think about you at brunch because my mom asked if I'm dating."

He's smart with the subject change because I'm dying to know if he talked about me.

"Why'd she randomly ask you that?" I wonder. "Or does she constantly check in on your love life?"

I look at him, but he keeps staring straight ahead.

"I guess I seemed lighter," he admits. "I don't know."

"Did you tell her about me?"

"Yes."

"What'd you say?" I ask, equal parts worried and flattered. It's so fucked.

"I told her I'm seeing this girl who tortures me a bit, but it's fun. That she's driven, so fucking pretty, and makes me laugh."

My cheeks burn. "Liar."

"Okay, you're right. I do think all those things about you, though. But I just said I'm seeing someone and don't know where it's going. It doesn't matter what I say, I seemed happy enough, so my mom will get her hopes up and start planning a wedding."

"Sounds like she'd get along with my best friend, Chelsea, who was nearly doing the same thing after our date last week."

"Speaking of, you never told me your thoughts on marriage."

I groan and focus on the lake. "I thought we were waiting until date five?"

"Is this not date five?"

Glancing at him, I say, "No."

"We said dinner at my place was technically date three. And then our little meetup at the furniture store—"

"Was me working. Remember? No flirting was allowed, so it wasn't a date."

"Okay. Then our FaceTime later that night was date four."

"Not really."

He gives me a look that conveys yes, that call was especially flirtatious. And okay, he's right.

"Spill," he says simply. "Tell me your deepest, darkest thoughts about marriage."

"It's too early in the morning to get into all that."

"You think I can't handle it? Try me."

"Okay. Marriage is cool."

He laughs. "Cool."

I roll my eyes. "You didn't tell me your thoughts, either. Is that something you want someday?"

"I do."

"Wow, already speaking in matrimony lingo. You're like, ready ready, huh? About to wife the next woman you see."

He smiles. "That was an accident, punk. But yeah, when I find the right person, I wouldn't mind spending forever with them."

"Forever? You believe in that?"

"What, like it's fictitious?"

"I don't know. Maybe." A melancholy ache fills my chest because it's hard not to think about Dad whenever marriage and kids are a topic. "Not to be a downer, but my uncle's life changed after losing his wife and daughter. He hasn't been the same and can't seem to shake the loss despite the years that have passed."

"Yeah, that's rough," Edward says, soft and sorrowful.

"But what he had with my aunt was real. And what I've heard about and seen in photos with my birth parents—that was real and deep, too. So I do believe in true love."

"Well, well, well. Bella Swan. A true romantic."

"But forever isn't a guarantee," I add.

"Ahh, there's my cynic."

"I know," I sigh. A man with a leashed dog runs past us, and I wait to speak until we're alone again. "When it comes to marriage, I think my thing is like… I've already dealt with my share of loss. Why open myself up to more of it? Nothing is guaranteed. Nothing is forever. Life and love is messy. Death, divorce. Douchebags," I add, and he smiles wryly.

"Okay, I'm following. So, is the fear of losing someone stopping you from pursuing romantic relationships?"

"Seems a little simplified, but I guess so."

"What's the alternative then? Being alone forever?"

"I wouldn't be alone," I insist. "I have my cat."

He cracks a smile. "Right. Lucy. The feline companion who probably only has a handful of years left."

"Hey, now. Don't make me cry on a Monday morning," I mumble.

Edward brings a hand up to the back of my neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Sorry."

"Anyway. Enough of that vulnerable stuff," I muse, missing his touch when he removes his hand. "I'm making myself sound attractive, huh? Forever single cat lady."

He shrugs, glancing at me. "Don't get in your head. You're being honest, which is fucking attractive to me."

My heart jumps at his words and his sincere expression. I swallow because I haven't been honest, even if I haven't lied to him about anything. It weighs on me.

"There's a coffee place up ahead," I tell him, changing the subject. "Do you—"

From behind us, someone screams.

Startled, we turn to see where the commotion is coming from, and I don't miss the protective way Edward's hand immediately touches my lower back like he's ready to save me from whatever threat is nearby.

I relax a little when I see a woman chasing after her Goldendoodle, the leash dangling from its neck.

"Luna!" the woman cries. "Stop!"

Edward and I watch for a moment, unsure how to help.

Uncaring about her owner, the dog runs from the trail through the trees and toward the busy road that surrounds the park.

"Shit," Edward exhales.

The woman's strangled cries turn more panicked and desperate, and I fight the urge to cover my eyes.

Instead of freezing like me, Edward moves into action, sprinting after the dog.

Everything happens fast after that.

The dog stops by a tree, pawing at the trunk, giving Edward time to get closer. But once she notices him running over, she bolts again.

Past the bike trail.

Beyond the sidewalk.

Into the fucking road.

I watch in helpless horror as Edward follows, holding up his hands for vehicles to stop as if they're guaranteed to see him and follow his instructions.

Horns blare.

Cars swerve.

Tires screech.

I hold my breath, then see a truck blow through a green light, coming straight for him. I can't look. I can't watch him risk his life to save a random dog.

I cover my face and clench my eyes shut, wincing when I hear metal against metal. The crunch collides with my heart.

I wait.

I breathe.

When I drop my hands and open my eyes, some cars are stopped haphazardly on the road, steam angrily exhaling from them after the collision.

Edward isn't there. I can't see him. He's not standing in the street, and I fucking panic as my mind plays worst-case scenarios.

"No," I gasp, eyes burning with tears.

I jog over.

No, I fucking run.

Tears fall down my cheeks, and I join a couple of onlookers already on the scene.

I push someone out of the way, trying to get through and steel myself for what I'm about to see.

For a second, I don't believe it.

He's fine.

Edward is crouched in the road, utterly uninjured, with a firm grip on the dog.

He doesn't notice me as he gives her a once-over, ensuring she's okay.

She's shaking.

No, I'm shaking and crying. And not fucking okay, even though Edward is.

He meets my eyes, his gaze softening when he sees me. I wipe my cheeks, trying to get my emotions under control.

I hang back on the sidewalk while the drivers exchange information and Edward and the dog owner talk. She must be thanking him profusely because he keeps shaking his head modestly, as if what he did was nothing, like running into traffic is normal.

When he joins me a minute later, I've thankfully calmed down. But I know my nose must be red, and my eyes are still glassy. I still feel emotionally raw, but I try to play it cool.

"Well, that wasn't on my bingo card for today," he says with a heavy sigh, pulling off his backward hat and running a hand through his hair before sliding it back on.

I knew I was scared and sad before, but I didn't realize I was also mad until he stood before me.

"Are you an adrenaline junkie?" I snap. "Or do you have a death wish?"

He exhales a soft laugh like this is funny. "Not lately, no."

It's too dark of a joke for how I'm feeling.

"Do you have some sort of hero complex?" I demand. "Where's your self-preservation? You saved me. You save random dogs. What's your problem?"

"Hey, what—"

"No, like, we just talked about this—how much loss I've had in my life. And then you just run into the fucking road? Like, what? I'm glad the dog is okay, and I'm so grateful you are, too. But, fuck, Edward."

He frowns. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to help."

"Okay, well, I want you alive," I fume. "Is that so much to fucking ask?"

"Bella."

"No."

He reaches for me.

I push at him, but not very convincingly.

He ignores my resistance and wraps both arms around my waist, staring down at me.

I don't even try to get away, but his grip tightens. Being this way is foreign to us. Other than our hug on our first date, we haven't touched. But letting him hold me like this isn't awkward. It feels natural. It feels good.

"You scared me," I say to his chest, unable to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry I got mad. I'll get over it. But you scared me. Okay?"

Shifting, he places a finger under my chin and tilts my face to look at him.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he says sincerely, his gaze intense. "I'll consider you next time I run into the road."

"Maybe just stop running into traffic altogether."

He smiles wryly, searching my face. "Okay. Done."

"Okay."

We're still close. Edward's still holding me.

"Any other demands?" he asks lightly.

"No. But I'll think of a few more the longer we hang out."

With a soft exhale, he says, "I have one. Well, maybe not a demand. More of an urge."

"What?"

He searches my face, his gaze dropping to my mouth. "I really want to kiss you now. But—"

I'm the one who initiates the kiss.

My chin tilts upward so our mouths meet.

My hands clutch his chest, and my body presses against his.

It was his idea but this is all me.

He kisses me back, deepening it.

He cups my face with both hands before they slide down my body and snake around my waist to pull me closer.

I don't think about anything except how he's making me feel. I craved comfort and closeness, and he's giving me all that and more.

His mouth opens, and our tongues gently brush. The feeling sparks hot in my lower belly.

The sound of sirens in the distance reminds me we're making out in public. We reluctantly break apart, but not before his lips seek out one more kiss.

I'm way less mad at him. A hell of a lot more turned on. And so insanely fucked.

"So… you have a thing for heroes?" he asks, cracking a joke and tossing me an easy grin.

I smile despite my inner turmoil. "I guess I just have a thing for you."