A/N

Originally, I had wanted to post these next few chapters as well for the first upload, but I got impatient. Enjoy!

Chapter 4

Bella scooped up the diced celery and tossed it in with the carrots and onions, inhaling with satisfaction the steam that rose from her grandma's well-loved cast iron pot. It was the only worthy piece of cookery that her dad owned, and Bella made good use of it.

Edward had left to hunt for his own meal before the weekend. Why he wasn't planning to go tomorrow when she was at La Push, she didn't know, but she hoped it wasn't because he was planning on spending the whole time spying on her.

He was totally going to spy on her. Bella sighed.

"Bells?" Charlie called out from the front door. She heard the requisite stamp of his boots and unclipping of his belt before he came into the kitchen.

"Hey, dad," she smiled at him.

Charlie peered around the kitchen with narrowed eyes.

"Edward's not here," she said, irritated at his dramatics.

Charlie grinned at her as he grabbed a beer from the fridge. "You're alone on a Friday night? You should've called the station. I would've come home earlier if I'd known fancy pants wasn't around."

"Bite the hand that feeds you, why don't you? And don't be homophobic."

Charlie snorted. "Am not. Everything about that boy is fancy. I heard him offer you a handkerchief. What kind of teenage boy has handkerchiefs? I bet they're fancy, too. Tell me I'm wrong."

Bella couldn't – they were embroidered with his initials. He never left the house without one. She glared at her dad, who snickered in victory and cracked open his beer, taking a long chug.

"And it's the kindest nickname I have for him. Choose your battles, kid."

She allowed it, on account of the fact that her dad was a teeny, tiny bit correct to be distrustful of Edward, given how much they lied to him, but it took all the patience she had.

"It's nice to see you up and cooking again, honey," Charlie said sincerely. He came over and patted her on the shoulder with awkward affection.

"Sorry it's been such a while, dad."

"As if, Bells. That's not what I meant. I don't expect you to cook for me. I appreciate it, but it's not what…I mean, it's great, but…" He floundered about with the best of intentions.

Bella squinted up at him suspiciously, her mind flickering to her conversation with Carlisle at the hospital.

"Yeah, dad. I just like it, I promise. There's not much motivation to cook for one person, so you're good."

Charlie grunted, and Bella decided that translated to the matter was settled.

"I'm going surfing with Jake and Leah tomorrow," she said to break the silence. Charlie lit up as she thought he would.

"Really? Are you feeling up to it?"

"I'll take it slow, and Jake said it was going to be a calm day."

"Edward going with you?"

Bella rolled her eyes. "No, dad. He's going to be out with his family."

"Good," he said decisively. "You two need to spend more time in your separate lives. I put up with it while you were hobbled and helpless –"

"Nice, dad."

"…but it'll do you some good. That's all I'm saying."

"Sure it is."

Bella dumped the fatty chunks of steak into the pot. Charlie leaned over with interest. He took the wooden spoon from her and gave the contents a good stir.

"What you making?"

"Ragu. I was going to try making some gnocchi – so probably mashed potatoes."

She stole the spoon back and shooed him away. He looked around, spotted the bag of potatoes, and with only some regret, put down his beer and got to peeling.

"Gnocchi. I take it back, Bells. My love is dependant on your cooking. It's your own fault."

Bella ignored him. She poked at the quickly browning meat.

"Do you have any cheap wine?" she asked.

"Who do you think you're talking to? I only have cheap wine. There's a box in the cupboard – no, that one."

She reached onto her tippy toes and just managed to wrap her fingers around the box, but the weight of it surprised her, and it dropped to the counter with a thud, a sharp corner jamming into her bicep on the way down.

Charlie watched it happen with exasperation. "You're killing me, Bells. Those stick arms break my heart. It's going to be like you're paddling with cooked spaghetti tomorrow."

"I just wasn't prepared!"

"Sure. Do a push-up, right now."

"Make me."

"I'll let you have a try of that wine if you do one push-up."

She glared at him. "This is a set-up, isn't it? Never pinned you for a dirty cop, father."

"Never pinned you for a chicken, daughter."

She grinned. She squeezed the nozzle and poured the wine into the pot to deglaze it, enjoying the hiss as the wine hit the heat.

"No deal. I don't drink wine from a box. I have taste, you know. Unlike you."

"Fancy pants is changing you." Charlie shook his head sadly.

"I'll never forget my humble beginnings."

He flicked a potato peel at her.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Bella lay in bed with her maths books, sprawled on her stomach, full of a heaping of rich ragu and gnocchi that to her triumph didn't turn into mashed potato at all. She never did homework on a Friday night, but lately, she also never did homework on Saturday or Sunday either. She bullied Edward with tears and promises into writing a history essay for her last Monday morning. He threatened to tell Esme on her next time.

She was also about seven chapters behind in calculus, and at this point, she was too embarrassed to ask for Edward's help.

It just seemed so pointless lately. She always struggled with maths, but was stubborn enough to occasionally pull through, and it wasn't the only subject she was letting slide anymore. She used to care so much about it all in Pheonix, the grades and honour roles and academic validation that feeds the ego of bookish girls with few friends.

How seriously was she supposed to take any of it with what she knew existed? She didn't know how Edward and Alice could bear the banality of High School when they had actual superpowers at their disposal.

Sometimes, it really didn't make sense to Bella, but she wasn't sure how to ask about it without being rude. Like, living in the same house when they can hear everything? Was that another vampire culture thing? Because she already found it to be unbearably awkward.

She shoved her calculus textbook to the side with disgust. This was clearly going nowhere. She was too distracted about her vampire of a boyfriend to concentrate on whatever the hell a quadratic equation is. There's only so much a girl can take.

She rolled over onto her back, crumpling stray worksheets uncaringly. She stared at the ceiling and sighed. Her neck throbbed suddenly, and she winced.

It came and went, the irritation on her neck. Sometimes, it felt like a rash, and she rubbed at it until frustrated tears stung her eyes. Other times, it felt more like tingling heat that pulsed with her heartbeat. It never lasted for more than a minute, and there was only a slight redness that would fade quickly. Edward and Carlisle were concerned, but neither had an answer aside from it being an odd anxiety symptom or some kind of allergic reaction. Because it never got actually painful, Carlisle had stressed it was best to wait and not draw any dire conclusions.

Seeing how worried Edward was, she didn't mention that she thinks she felt the same itchy sensation on the underside of her right wrist on Thursday. She had been subconsciously rubbing her arm against her denim-covered thigh during class and froze when she realised what she was doing.

It didn't make sense, but a lot of things in her life didn't make sense. She should probably be more concerned about that than she was, but all she could think about was when Edward was going to touch her again.

She bit her lip and glanced at the window. The curtains were mostly drawn, but she could see a sliver of the night sky. It was starry tonight, the moon a dim crescent. She stared at the distant forested hills and wondered if Edward was out there. She wondered what he was hunting and what that looked like.

She remembered glimpses of the Cullens fighting James in the ballet studio, how feral and vicious they seemed even in their murderous determination. Their human façade hasn't had the same effect on her since; she finds it strangely eerie now, whereas before she'd hardly noticed it.

She thought of Edward pressing his teeth to her neck and how instinctively she froze, like the prey she apparently was. A bolt of desire burned through her at the memory.

And the other day, during their fight, his hands pinning hers behind her back, tugging her tight against his body. She had been furious, but not furious enough to ignore what being restrained so easily by him did to her.

Was it normal to want that?

What did he want?

Bella sighed, frustrated and turned on. She peeked furtively at the window again, though he had told her midnight. She was alone, she was allowed, she really didn't want to do her maths homework. She clicked off her bedside lamp, pulled her bra off through her sleeve, and relaxed into the comforting dark.

She closed her eyes and let her hands wander to their familiar stations. She tugged at her right nipple, the more sensitive one, over the soft cotton of her baggy blue shirt, a leftover from her brief soccer team days in Pheonix. She liked the sensation of the fabric rubbing against her nipples more than touching them bare, though she didn't understand why.

Her other hand rubbed at the seam of her jeans. She sometimes drew it out, but she was impatient. Her neck had been driving her mad and this was an itch she could scratch. She unbuttoned her jeans and slipped her fingers between her lips, stroking her clit in a quick two-beat rhythm until her fingers were slippery and she was squirming with shocks of pleasure. She squeezed her eyes shut and let the fantasies play behind her eyes.

A cold hand clutching her wrist dragged her forcefully from the brink like she'd plunged into an icy lake. She almost screamed before another hand clasped over her mouth. She hadn't even heard the window open.

Oh, god. This was so unfair. It wasn't even ten pm yet – he wasn't supposed to be here. She stared at Edward with wide, humiliated eyes.

His eyes were dark gold, even though he'd have just been hunting. His nostrils flared. Bella realised with a wave of hot shame that she still had one hand on her breast, and she quickly shoved it beneath her back like she was trying to conceal evidence.

She could do nothing about her other hand, however, her wrist still clutched in his iron manacle of a grip. She tugged desperately to free it, whimpering behind the hand over her mouth, so embarrassed that she had to bite back tears.

Edward was sitting beside her on the bed, his expression shadowed and strangely blank. He ignored her struggle to free her hand and instead pulled it slowly from her jeans towards him. He stared at her glistening fingers and swallowed. Bella froze, wishing she could just sink back into the mattress and die.

"What's this, Bella?" he whispered. "Have I been neglecting you?"

Bella's eyes darted to his. He met her confused gaze with his burning one.

"I have, haven't I?"

Bella struggled to make sense of what was happening. The frankness of his stare wrapped around her like a blanket, soothing her panic. In spite of herself, she did a very brave thing then, and with tremendous effort, she let the searing shame unfurl into cool, dark wanting. She took a breath. She nodded her head at him slowly as her eyes flooded with arousal, drowning out the naked shock. Edward smiled.

Edward lifted her trapped hand closer to his face. He hesitated for just a moment before pulling her two fingers into his mouth. Bella gasped – out of embarrassment or because she was turned on, she couldn't tell anymore, everything blurred into need anyway. Edward's eyes closed as his tongue laved the flavour of her from her fingertips.

He wrenched her wrist away and a growl rumbled quietly in his chest. "That," he said wryly, "is going to become a problem." His black eyes cut to hers. "I thought your blood was sweet."

He still had a hand over her mouth, and Bella didn't know why, but she was grateful, because otherwise she'd be begging for all kinds of things that she couldn't bear to say out loud.

Edward's stare raked down her body, lingering on her unbuttoned jeans and the small bow on the top of her black cotton underwear that peeked out the gap. Bella shifted, pulling her arm out from under her back, flexing out the pins and needles. He frowned.

"I'd like you to put your hand back where it was, if you don't mind," he said politely.

Bella frowned in confusion, moving her hand slowly to tuck it back behind her.

"No," said Edward, shaking his head. "Not there."

The silence stretched between them. He was impossibly still as he waited to see what she would do.

She lifted a hesitant hand up, inch by inch. When she cupped her breast, he let out a long breath. He finally snatched his silencing hand away from her mouth, seeming surprised that he had still been holding it there.

"Show me," he implored her gently. He shifted his other grip on her wrist and placed her palm on her lower stomach. He left his hand a gentle weight atop the back of hers, barely skimming her skin.

Bella closed her eyes and pressed her head back against the bed. She didn't know if she could do this.

But the insistent throbbing between her legs informed her that she could.

She kept her eyes shut as she crept her hand – and his – beneath the elastic of her panties, or she'd catch sight of him and lose her nerve. She heard Edward curse as he felt her fingers slip between wet heat and skin. She stilled, not sure what she dared to do, what would be weird or wrong or offensive to him. But she didn't pull away either.

Too curious by half, Bella opened her eyes. Edward was fixated on their hands. Bella felt a thrill run through her at his starved expression. Her inhibitions melted away further. He wanted this – he really, desperately wanted this. Wanted her.

Keeping her eyes on Edward's face, she circled her clit slowly once. Her…she could barely stand to think the word – why were there no good words? She clenched in response to the tiny movement around an emptiness inside her she'd never noticed before. How did him just looking at her make her a thousand times more sensitive? Edward swallowed and his eyes met hers.

"May I –"

"Yes," she whispered hurriedly.

Edward smiled. He shifted on the bed towards her more, not moving his hand over hers so much as an inch, and Bella scanned him eagerly. Her eyes flashed up to his when she got to his jeans. She felt a moment of shock, though she didn't know why. She thought she'd seen, and she had definitely felt during that morning on his back porch, but he clearly wasn't making an attempt to hide his response from her, and that was new. If anything, his eyes glinted with something like satisfaction, maybe a little amusement at the inherent innocence of her reaction that she hadn't been able to hide.

She really had to start forcing herself to say the words. She'd never convince Edward she was mature enough for anything fun if she could barely say the words even in her head.

Edward fingered the hem of her shirt, raising an eyebrow at her. She nodded. She started to move her other hand from her chest, but Edward shook his head. She smiled and left it.

Well, saying no words at all was one way around the issue.

Edward lifted up one side of her top until her breast was exposed, her hand holding down the shirt on the other side. Edward sighed and shook his head at the sight.

Bella couldn't help it, and she smirked at him.

"Another problem. Another serious, terrible problem." He cupped her breast with a cold hand and Bella gasped, her fingers twitching under his on her clit like a tiny shock. She shivered and had to make an effort not to instinctively jerk away from the cold of his skin, but she breathed deeply into it and relaxed, even as goosepimples rippled over her flesh.

He lowered his head and circled his tongue around her nipple. Bella's thighs clenched around their hands. He rubbed the back of her fingers with a featherlight touch, urging her to move.

"Please," he said against her skin, his icy breath fanning over the coral peak of her breast as a fiery blush spread past her collarbones. He closed his mouth over her nipple and gently sucked, and Bella gave up. Her fingers started moving with purpose, at first just cautiously stroking up and down, but as the dual sensations of her hand and his mouth ignited her, she became too desperate and started circling rhythmically against her slick, swollen bud of nerves.

She was close, but being brought back and forth so quickly to the edge in a short period of time, now she just couldn't let go. She whimpered in exquisite frustration, her whole body trembling and taut.

Edward released her nipple from his mouth.

"Look at me," he demanded gently.

Bella met his gaze. She worried for a moment that she had a double-chin like this, that her face was red and splotchy, that she hadn't showered yet today.

But his eyes were black and burnished with such steady longing that it filled her with a heady warmth that fizzed through her veins like champagne, and there was just no room inside her to feel bad about herself.

Edward's hand that was just atop hers slid down further. Very, very delicately, he pressed his middle finger forwards, slipping between her vulva. His hand had been heated from her skin, but her breath still caught at the foreign feeling of another person touching her, however slight.

Edward shuddered. "You're so warm, Bella." He delved a little deeper until he was just pressing against her entrance. He circled gently once, and Bella felt the wetness trickle out of her in response. Edward groaned and took his hand away, moving it back to rest atop hers again, shaking his head.

"I can't. Not yet. Keep going. Please, baby," he said, eyes darting to where her hand had stilled.

Bella hesitated, feeling shy again. She looked down to his lap and bit her lip.

"But aren't you - can you at least…" she started to ask in a whisper, before she blushed so ruby-red she could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks.

Edward waited to see if she'd finish what she wanted to say, looking at her with that face he made when he wanted to pry open her skull and peer inside.

He cocked his head and slowly moved his free hand from the bed until it rested on his thigh. Bella's breath caught in her throat, and she smiled at Edward shyly.

"Please," she said.

Edward let out a breath. Bella started circling her clit in slow, gentle strokes, as if to egg him on. Watching Edward watch her was so unbelievably exciting, it took only moments before she felt the waves of pleasure begin to rise and swell again.

With a low, gravelly "fuck it", Edward finally moved and palmed his crotch, groaning as he did, and Bella felt her heart thud at the sight. The muscles in his forearm strained, but he did no more than occasionally flex the heel of his hand against himself.

Whereas before Bella couldn't get up the peak, now she was fighting not to fall off it so she could keep watching him. Her fingers strained beneath his.

"Come, baby," he said. "You look so fucking gorgeous, Bella. Come for me."

Bella exploded and arched like she'd been electrocuted, her knees and back rising off the bed, heels digging into the mattress with the force of her orgasm. She cried out, but Edward quickly pressed his lips to hers and captured the sound.

Bella moaned and whimpered against his mouth, and he murmured nonsensically to her until she was panting, collapsing back on the bed, her limbs heavy and shaking. Edward lay down next to her and pulled her into his arms. He snaked out a hand and captured her wrist, pulling her hand up so he could suck and lick the tips of her wet fingers alongside his. Bella buried her face in his chest, breathing in his scent that calmed her like nothing else.

"Midnight," she gasped between breaths. With great effort and will, she lifted her head to glare at Edward. "You said midnight."

Edward blinked at her, his lips still wrapped around the tip of her index finger, taking a second to realise what she was talking about before slowly grinning. He released her wrist, and she snatched her hand back indignantly.

"So I did. I guess we were both feeling a little impatient tonight."

"You didn't even knock!"

"I'm never knocking again, Bella. You've made sure of that."

Bella sighed, too tired by half to banter with him properly, and buried her face back into his soft sweater.

"Aren't you, like, frustrated? Why can't I…"

Edward snorted. "Frustrated is the least of it. But what has happened already is more than I ever imagined was possible, and I just can't risk losing control in that way. Not yet."

He hesitated. "And if I'm being honest, it feels less…improper to me, to focus on you like that."

"What?"

"I know not much of the world agrees with me these days, but I still think…I think it just matters, being this way with someone. And it's hard for me to do anything more than kiss you without instinctively feeling like I'm taking advantage of you."

Bella rolled her eyes.

"Yes, yes, I know. But you're also young, Bella. I'm sorry. Young enough that I should be ashamed for what I'm doing – and I am. You wouldn't believe what a cad I feel like," Edward rolled his eyes at himself this time. "I'm lusting after a girl that's barely ripened," he said sardonically.

Bella wrinkled her nose. "Ew. I'm not an avocado. Like, ew."

Edward choked on a too-loud laugh and smothered his mirth by pressing his grinning face into her hair.

"Sorry. Touché. Still, I never imagined that if I did ever find this, it would be with someone so young – or human. The right thing to do would be to stay away from you entirely. Since I'm apparently incapable of that, the second most right thing is that anything we do together be at least controlled by your desire, and not the desire of the monster who coveted you."

Bella considered this, ignoring the monster bit for now. "But I do want that – sometimes, all I want, all I can think about, is how much I want to make you feel good."

He froze. He let his head fall back against her wooden headboard with a solid thud. "What am I going to do with you, Miss Swan?"

"It's Ms Swan, thank you very much."

"Ms Swan, but of course."

Edward wrapped his arms around her tighter.

"Just give me time," he said. "We have time."

She sighed and let it go. They breathed together peacefully for a minute. The call of sleep was so strong, she knew she had to move now or she'd never get up.

"I need to take a shower," she said. Edward shrugged.

"You've never smelt better to me, you know."

"That's because you're a savage," she informed him brightly.

"Now you're getting it."

Bella disentangled herself. She kissed him sweetly.

"You'll stay?"

"I'll stay."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The following morning, Edward watched her eat a bowl of cheerios with the abject regret of a man about to leave for war.

Bella glared at him. "Would you stop?"

"Cancel and I'll take you to Paris."

"Paris in the summer? I would never."

"We own a villa in Tuscany with a library that has one of those rolling ladders."

"Sounds tacky."

"Me and Emmett found a tiny uninhabited island back in the forties and built an elaborate network of luxurious treehouses. Ever seen that film Swiss Family Robinson?"

"Nope."

"The island has hot springs and a mermaid cove."

Her head shot up. "Mermaids?"

"Ah. No, but Emmett crafted a very life-like stone statue of Rosalie with a tail brushing her hair."

"That's too bad. You would've won with mermaids; I still know all the words to Part of Your World."

Their argument came to an abrupt halt as Charlie stomped down the stairs. He paused at the doorway to the kitchen, bleary-eyed and rumpled in his plaid dressing gown. He squinted at Edward.

"You're here early."

"I went for a run with my dad this morning before his shift, sir," Edward said smoothly. "I thought I'd see Bella off."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Yeah, all right. Whatever." He made a beeline for the coffee machine. Bella hopped up and went to wash her bowl in the sink.

"Leave it, Bells. Go get ready. You heading off soon?" Charlie leaned against the counter and took a deep, reverent gulp of coffee.

"Yep," Bella said, dumping her bowl happily. "Thanks, dad."

Bella smirked at Edward and rushed out the door. He started to get up to follow her, but Charlie jabbed a finger at him.

"I think Bella can get dressed just fine by herself, don't you, son? Sit your ass down."

Edward dropped to the seat like a stone. "Sir, I wasn't –"

"Yeah, of course not."

she twirled around at the bottom of the stairs to grin at a stricken looking Edward and a smug looking Charlie. Edward flashed his eyes to her and glared, and Bella stuck her tongue out at him before scampering up to her room, his stare following her.

"What you looking at there, Edward?"

Edward sighed. "Nothing, sir. Nothing."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Bella sat at her shabby vanity, awkwardly trying to French-braid her hair, when a knock made her jump and the silky locks slip from her fingers.

"Damnit," she sighed, letting her aching arms drop. Charlie was right. She was weak, and while she knew she'd be able to paddle, she was going to pay for it tomorrow.

She glared at Edward as he slipped through the window. "How did you escape?"

"Alice called 'needing a lift'. Charlie's going to tell you when you leave."

He scanned what she was wearing and went still in shock before his face darkened. "Are you joking?" he hissed.

Bella raised her eyebrows at him innocently. "What?" She looked down at her simple and sturdy black bikini top and maroon sweatpants.

"You're wearing that surfing?"

"Looks that way, doesn't it?"

"But…how will it…you'll freeze!"

Could vampires have aneurisms? This was fun. Bella turned back to her hair and made a second attempt at braiding.

"I always wear this surfing."

"Bella…" Edward warned, taking a few steps closer to her.

"I don't see what your problem is."

"My problem is that you'll slip right out of that ridiculous thing, and I will not have you exposing yourself –"

"Wow, Edward. Wow."

"…not to mention that it offers you zero protection. Why wear anything at all? Why not just surf naked to make sure you have no skin left whatsoever when you get dragged across a coral reef? Even being dragged across sand could shred you to bits," he threw his hands up in disgust.

Bella bit her lip, eyes sparkling with laughter. "Edward," she said calmly.

"Not even professional surfers take such stupid, pointless risks –"

"Edward –"

"Are you even planning on using a surfboard? Or are you just planning on finding a nice shark and asking for a ride?"

She gave up on the hair and stood up to walk to her chest of clothes, bending over to dig through the bottom drawer.

"I wouldn't tempt me right now, Bella."

She snapped upright and narrowed her eyes at Edward as she whipped around.

"Not funny," she said.

"Not joking," he replied.

She rolled her eyes and tossed him the purple rash vest she had pulled out of her drawer. He unfolded and held it up. He pursed his lips when he realised what it was.

"Oh."

"And I wear one of Leah's wetsuits on top of that. Happy?"

He tossed it back. "You could've just told me," he mumbled, embarrassed.

She grinned. "But you're so cute when you throw your little tantrums."

Edward growled at her, and she laughed at him. She pulled on the shirt, and Edward frowned like he suddenly regretted everything. Bella went and wrapped her arms around his neck to soften the loss, reaching up on her toes to kiss his grouchy face.

"See? You have nothing to worry about," she said, smiling at him.

Edward crushed her in his arms, cradling her head against his chest.

"Nothing to worry about, she says," he mumbles sarcastically, "as she swan-dives into a volcano."

Bella giggled. He stroked her hair for a moment.

"Jacob's last name is Black, right?" he asked suddenly.

"Yeah. Why?"

Edward made a thoughtful noise, and then he let out a long breath into her hair and reached down to run his tongue up the side of her neck. Bella squeaked in surprise, squirming at the weird sensation.

"Ew, Edward. Why?" she complained, trying to push his head away from where he was sucking a red mark onto her neck. After a moment, before the mark would linger, he allowed her hands to shove him away before breathing out into her hair once more and combing his fingers through the strands.

"No reason," he said lightly, a spark of something animal in his eyes. "I'll be here when you get home. I love you, Bella."

She eyed him suspiciously, but she didn't want to risk fighting again.

"I love you too," she said. "I'll be careful."

He sighed. "I'm not counting on it, but I appreciate you saying it all the same."

"Edward!"

"You're just going to have to prove me wrong," he winked at her as he backed towards the window. "Is that enough motivation for your oppositional defiance disorder, young lady?"

"Go to hell, old man."

"Almost certainly."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

A/N

Thank you so much for reading!