Monday, November 5, 2012

Chapter 33

Tuesday, September 6

11:03 a.m.

TEXT MESSAGES

From: Rosalie Hale

To: Edward Cullen


E - check your schedule for next week. I’ve added a couple of new clients. Mandy Cook Tuesday eve; Larissa Holcomb Thursday. Took the liberty of booking your usual suite at Hotel 1000 for Mandy - she’s a shy one who will respond very well to your particular talents, I think. Larissa is the opposite - freshly divorced with money to burn. Excellent opportunity for repeat business. She wants to meet you at Canlis for dinner and then it’s up to you.

Bad news - can’t make either of those appointments. Personal reasons. You know Thursday is my day off. Please reschedule if you would, thanks.

I’ve been pretty understanding about this Thursday rule of yours. I think you could bend it once in the interest of obtaining a potentially lucrative client. And if you needed Tuesday off, you should have let me know earlier.

Sorry, I forgot to ask for the 13th off. But I have an appointment I can’t get out of. As for my Thursdays rule, I’d say it’s a pretty fair trade-off for me being available to you every fucking weekend for over two years now. Surely you can reschedule. Or find another escort who’s available.

Not sure I like the attitude I’m detecting here. I’ll chalk it up to the shortcomings of texts. Just as I’ll chalk up your failure to satisfy one of our best customers last night as a one-time occurrence. If it becomes a pattern, then we have a problem. Understood?

Completely.

“Fuck you, Rosalie Hale,“ Edward hissed at the phone as he turned it off and shoved it in his back pocket. He was glad Charlotte was nowhere around - he felt guilty cursing in front of her, though he’d done it before - yesterday, in fact, when he was begging her for money. But she came through anyway. She was at the bank right now, making arrangements, while he wrestled with the keys of her Steinway, playing the same passage over and over until the notes and nuances were just right. He’d ignored the vibration of the phone in his pocket until he was done. He knew Bella was at work - she was scheduled for a few hours between classes. He wished he could call her right now, just to hear her voice. It gave him strength and reminded him why he was doing this.

All he had to do was get through seven more weeks. He knew Charlotte was right - if he made a good showing at the Seattle International Piano Competition, it could open a lot of doors for him in the world of classical music. He’d had something of a name locally when he was younger. He just needed to create a little buzz again - get them talking and hopefully considering him for any jobs that might open up. He would take whatever anyone offered at this point - anything to pad his resume and hone his skills.

Anything to help him hand Rosalie Hale his walking papers once and for all.

Damn that Leslie Grimm and her loose lips. He’d hoped he could trust her to keep mum about his refusal to sleep with her last night, but he should have known better. She probably took the rejection personally, and her retaliation was swift. He took a mental tally of the dates he knew he had lined up in the next few weeks. Could he get away with refusing sex that long?

He already knew the answer was “no.” He had plenty more Leslies waiting in the wings, hiring him for a very predictable and specific reasons. How long could he spurn his regulars before Rosalie bounced him out on his ass? Not seven weeks, that much was certain.

“Let her fire me,” was his gut response. The thought of being intimate with anyone but Bella made his stomach turn. How had she accomplished that so fast? Many females had come before her, but none had ever touched him the way she did - made his insides twist and burn for one girl and one girl only. He knew she‘d ruined him for other women that first night. That the need for her would only escalate; that having her again would only make him crave more, like a junkie jonesing for only the purest, uncut drug to give him that unparalleled high. Anything less would be a crushing disappointment.

But maybe that was what he would have to endure for just a little longer. Because as much as he abhorred the idea of sleeping with anyone else, he feared losing the only security he’d known since admitting his grandmother to Tranquility Gardens. Charlotte was in the process of taking care of a major chunk of his debt, and he couldn’t bear to ask her for a penny more. He still had to make a living somehow. Sticking with Renaissance Escorts for the time being allowed him to pay the bills and still have most of his days free to practice for the piano competition. Suddenly his entire future seemed to hinge upon this one event, and how well he performed. Because if he excelled, it could be the ticket to leaving the escort business behind and obtaining a decent-paying music job instead.

All he had to do was tough it out for seven more weeks. Six and a half, really. Then, if the piano competition was a success, he could walk away from escorting and be the kind of man Bella deserved. But until that day, he vowed to keep his hopes and plans to himself, no matter how hard it was. He wasn’t about to make a single promise to Bella he wasn’t absolutely sure he could keep. He would give her no empty reassurances until he was certain he could back them up.

He paused for a moment and imagined surprising her with the good news . . . revealing that Charlotte had entered him in a piano contest, he’d performed well enough to get a job offer out of the deal, and he was done with the escort business for good. He pictured her face, first frozen in shock, then melting into pure joy as he picked her up and whirled her around. He wondered what such freedom, such happiness, would feel like.

He turned back to the piano with a smile of grim determination and stretched his fingers out over the keys. The happiness he longed for was literally in his own hands.

He wasn’t about to blow it.

# # # # # # # # # #


2:17 p.m.

TEXT MESSAGES

From: Edward Cullen

To: Bella Swan

So, where’s the text message you promised me today?

What text message? Weren’t you supposed to call me, anyway?

The text message telling me you aren’t pregnant. And I’ll call you after your classes are done.

I’m not pregnant. I have PMS like crazy. I’m sure Flo will visit me any time now.

You’re making me nervous.

Don’t be. It’s day 28. No need for alarm.

Sure. Fine. So how’s work? And how was your drawing class? I want to see some of your artwork.

Work sucks. At least the mayhem of book rush is over. You’ll love my artwork from today - first day we had a nude model. Female. Rather Botticelli-esque, complete with useless drape that covered only one calf and forearm.

Nice. Definitely want to see your sketches. For purely artistic reasons, of course.

Of course. Geez. Don’t you see enough naked women?

Ouch. I deserved that. I try to see as few as possible. There’s only one female figure I’m interested in studying nowadays. Which reminds me, what do you want to do for your birthday? It’s your day. Tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen.

You know what I want - you, to myself. I don’t like sharing. Not sure you can arrange that in one week. But I’ll come up with something fun for us to do in the meantime.

I AM all yours, believe that. I‘m working on making it happen. And on your birthday, rest assured, I will absolutely belong only to you.

That’s enough. For now.

I am one lucky bastard. I’ll call you after your class.

Good. After a 50-min. Global Politics lecture, I’ll need to hear something positive.

I’ll try to work up a little comedy routine for you.

I don’t need jokes. Just say something sweet to me.

That’s easy. I’ll start now. I’ve been thinking about you all day. Trying to figure out what to get you for your birthday.

I told you - I just want you. You’re on my mind all the time. Beginning to think it’s a sickness. Don’t care, don’t want to get well.

You know you kill me when you say those things. I’m right there with you. I don’t want a cure.

Being together is the cure. Shit, class is starting. I’d better pay attention - I hate politics.

Birds of a feather. I’ll call you later. XO

XO back atcha.

# # # # # # # # # #

Wednesday, September 7

4:14 p.m.

TEXT MESSAGES

From: Edward Cullen

To: Bella Swan

Where is my text message today?

What do you mean?

You know what I mean. You’re late, aren’t you.

Twenty-nine days is not late.

You said you were like clockwork.

I am. Within a day or two. Don’t panic. I’m sure it’s coming soon.

Christ. I can’t believe that clinic doctor gave you dildos and lube but no condoms. What kind of Mickey Mouse operation is that place, anyway?

Trust me, she insisted I use condoms. I’m the one who talked you out of it. If you want to be angry, be angry with me.

I’m mad at myself. I know better and I did it anyway. I wanted it, and I did it.

But I pushed you. And trust me, I know better, too. We’re both adults here. So let’s act like it and not fly off the handle. I’m barely late - absolutely nothing to worry about.

But I do worry. That’s what I do. That’s what I am - a classic, dyed-in-the-wool worrier. And now I’m about to become a praying man, too, because this is the last thing you or I need right now.

I know that. I’m sorry I was such an idiot. It won’t happen again. We’ll use condoms. Two-ply, if necessary. And I’ll go on the pill or something as back-up. Just please stop freaking out.

I’m not freaking out. Yet. Sorry if I sound like an asshole. It’s been a long day.

Yeah? Have you been working already?


Not like you think. I’m practicing the piano a bit. Trying to dust the cobwebs out of my fingers. It’s frustrating at times.

You’re playing again? That’s great! Don’t let your insane perfectionism get in the way. You’re incredibly talented. Enjoy it instead of being so self-critical. My favorite Edward is the one who throws caution to the wind and goes for it, perfection be damned.

He does have his merits, with the huge exception that he may have gotten you pregnant.

Oh good grief. That’s my cue to go. Actually I really do need to get to work. Please try not to worry yourself to death. I will tweet you the second my period starts. Which is kinda gross, when I think about it.

Not gross. Thoughtful. I’m sure we’d make beautiful babies together, but I’d prefer it to be many years from now.

You’ve thought about our babies???

Only because that throw-caution-to-the-wind guy was so careless. He’s making me pay, with nightmares of diapers and spit-up and college tuition.

STOP. I’m going now. Take comfort in your beautiful music, please. And the fact that you get to spend the day with Emily tomorrow.

All right. Have fun with Alice and Jasper at lunch tomorrow. She’s still on me to come, too. I’ll see how Em’s doing in the morning, then maybe swing by, depending.

I’d love that! I miss you so much. How can it only be two days since I’ve seen you? I’ll never make it ‘til next Tuesday. I am pathetic.

No, not pathetic. I like it. I feel the same way. I’ll do my best to come but I can’t promise anything.

Okay. I won’t beg. Unless you’re into that sort of thing . . .

I could be. *mind wanders* Don’t let me keep you. Go to work. I don’t want you to be late.

That’s the theme of the week, apparently.

Ha. Ha.

J

# # # # # # # # # #

Thursday, September 8

7:58 a.m.



Bella yawned and reached for the double espresso she’d picked up on her way to class. She wasn’t much of a morning person. Eight o’clock was far too early for her to think coherently, which was why she scheduled her Life Drawing class then. Sometimes the less brain power she used while drawing, the better. At least that’s what the instructor, a wizened and grizzled import from the Czech Republic, always told her in a thick accent whenever he paused by her easel.

“Fine. I see that you can draw. Now, loosen up your arm and draw with your whole body, not just your hand. Create the image from your gut, not your head. Stop trying to make it look perfect and feel the motion, the shape, the fluidity of your subject.”

So she would stop the pains-taking detail and sketch in big, swooping motions, while the professor bellowed, “Yes, yes! That’s it,” before moving to the next student in the circle of easels.

She always thought of Edward whenever the instructor accused her of perfectionism. Of course, it didn’t take much to make her think of him. It was much harder to purge him from her mind and concentrate on school or work instead. Did all girls feel this way about their boyfriends? Angela and Ben had seemed to do just fine in high school. They were crazy about each other but still managed to get straight A‘s. Of course, they studied together all the time. Bella tried to imagine sitting across from Edward at the library, then laughed into her coffee cup as she lifted it to her lips. She knew the textbook wouldn’t have a chance of holding her attention if he were in the vicinity. However, if he were the model in this class, that would be a different story entirely.

She was actually a little nervous about who would be posing today. She already knew the model would be male, since Tuesday’s was female. She wondered if he would be as naked as the female was. That could be . . . awkward.

She soon got her answer. The professor arrived and introduced today’s guinea pig without ceremony while the students got their drawing pads, pencils and charcoal ready. Bella rose from her stool, preferring to stand while sketching. She set her coffee cup on it and turned her attention to the instructor.

“I’d like you all to welcome our student model today, James. I will put him in more of an action pose than Megan was in Tuesday, so you can concentrate on his musculature. I want you to study the proportions of the body, and the bone structure and connective muscle beneath.”

Bella took another swig of espresso while a blonde, pony-tailed guy in a blue robe sauntered to the middle of the room. He was attractive, but clearly knew it. His self-satisfied expression made him far less appealing to her. She watched as the professor met him inside the circle of easels, bringing a prop spear for him to hold.

And then, sixty seconds later, James was the stark naked centerpiece in a circle of bleary-eyed, pencil-wielding students. He held the spear aloft, lunging forward as if frozen in the act of throwing it at some wild game, or at an ancient warrior foe.

Or at me, Bella mentally added. He was facing her nearly dead-on, though he avoided direct eye contact. Good luck holding that pose for long, Bella thought with a snort.

James lasted for about five minutes before he required a short break, his arm beginning to quiver, muscles straining with the effort of holding the object in the air. But Bella was glad for the diversion, concentrating on filling out the swell of each muscle group, from his overworked arm to the weight-bearing muscles of his thighs. Anything to keep from looking at his penis, which, from her angle, was difficult to avoid.

She was successful in her quest to keep the entire enterprise at the level of art for about twenty minutes. That’s how long it took her to get the outline and coarse details of the model on paper. She had been able to concentrate purely on the mechanics of his body, breaking it down to its components, studying in pencil how they all connected and worked together. There were only two things missing from her drawing now: his face, and his genitals.

She felt her cheeks begin to warm as she tried to determine which to tackle first. She decided she’d better go south, because once she looked him in the eye, she’d never be able to look at his crotch again.

She lowered her gaze to the model’s groin, willing her eyes to focus on what they had politely glossed over until now. She was rather stunned to be met with the sight of his semi-erect penis, well on its way to pointing right at her.

She tried not to gasp, or let her expression register even the slightest surprise. This was an art class, after all. They were here to appreciate and capture the beauty of the human form, not gawk at its proclivity for sexual arousal. Really, she should feel sorry for the guy, getting a woody in the middle of class. She supposed she couldn’t blame him, with a roomful of eyes focused on his naked body. Increased blood flow to his member was probably an inadvertent, even unavoidable, side effect.

She followed the professor’s instructions with relief now, quickly capturing the general shape of the model’s genitals without going into pornographic detail. Still, by the time she was done, she could not escape the fact that he was definitely hard, his penis perpendicular to his body, bobbing slightly next to his lunging thigh. Good grief. Why did he have to be practically facing her? Why couldn’t she have chosen an easel with a side view of the guy? Preferably one hiding his erection from her.

She turned away and grabbed her coffee off the stool. She took several sips, and deep breaths, before finally turning her eyes to the model’s face. When she did, she couldn’t help but start in surprise this time.

He was staring right at her.

He’d been watching her drink her coffee, his blue eyes clear and piercing across the room. His mouth twitched in a slight smirk when he caught her reaction. His arm twitched with the effort of aiming the prop spear at her, and his own spear followed suit.

She had no choice now but to endure his smirk as she tried to capture it in pencil. She drew his even, slightly bland features as quickly as possible, appalled that he was clearly taking pleasure in embarrassing her with his lewd gaze and matching hard-on. She hated the heat that mottled her cheeks several shades of red. She knew her mortification only delighted him. He was just that type.

She sighed with relief when she finished her rendering of the model, whom she had mentally dubbed Jackass James, with a few minutes to spare. She was even more relieved when the professor announced time was up, and brought James his robe. He donned it at a leisurely pace, as if enjoying his exhibitionism. He was probably proud of his big dick, although she’d seen bigger, she noted with her own smirk.

James began strolling around the room to look at everyone’s sketches. Bella felt herself bristle when he drew near, the hair on the back of her neck rising. She busied herself putting her pencils away while he planted himself in front of her easel.

“Nice job,” he said as he admired her handiwork. She was surprised at the genuine tone of his voice, so she hazarded a glance in his direction.

“You’re very talented,” he added, appearing to be the very the soul of sincerity.

“Thanks,” she mumbled begrudgingly.

He smiled and turned to leave, but then suddenly leaned in to speak quietly in her ear.

“It’s going to be a very long semester, though, if you keep getting me as hot and bothered as you did today.”

She jerked back and gaped at him, not bothering to hide her dismay. He only chuckled, gave her that shit-eating grin, and sauntered on to the next easel.

Fuck. He couldn’t be serious. She was not responsible for his erection. There were plenty of cute girls in her class, and some handsome guys too, for that matter. Any of them could have been the cause of his unfortunate predicament. He was just teasing her because she was an easy target. She really needed to work on her poker face. She couldn’t let him rattle her if he was going to be a recurring model in this class.

She stored her supplies in one of the cubby-holes at the far end of the room, then bolted from the studio without looking back. As she hurried down the hall, she was disconcerted to feel a distinct wetness between her legs. What the hell? No way had she gotten aroused by that errant penis pointing at her. Not when it belonged to a smug bastard like James. Not when it didn’t belong to Edward.

She made a beeline for the nearest ladies’ room, lunged into the first stall and slung her backpack over the hook inside the door. She dropped her jeans and panties, took a quick look, and then sank onto the toilet with a ragged sigh.

Her period had started.

# # # # # # # # # #


12:17 p.m.

“Get out! It was pointing right at you? For real?”

Alice Cullen’s face was the picture of astonished glee as she leaned in and planted her elbows on the restaurant table. She obviously found the art class story a lot more amusing than Bella did.

“Yes. It freaked me out. Well, at least it did after he told me I was the one responsible for it,” she replied with a grimace.

“He did what? Explain, please.”

Bella repeated the words James had whispered in her ear after class, feeling a little queasy as she spoke.

“No way! I can’t believe he hit on you. That guy has some balls. I guess he figured that since you’ve already seen them, he might as well put ‘em to good use!”

Alice erupted into laughter while Bella covered her face and groaned into her hands.

“That’s disgusting. He was not hitting on me,” she insisted. “He was just trying to needle me.”

“’Needle’ you? That’s one way of putting it,” Alice snorted before her attention wandered to a tall blond near the restaurant entrance. “Oh, here comes Jasper. We’ll ask him for the male perspective.”

“We’ll do no such thing!” Bella hissed, while Alice waved her arms to get his attention. “Do not repeat that story. It’s too embarrassing.”

Alice blithely ignored her, calling out to Jasper as he approached. “Bella was just telling me the craziest thing right now.”

“Oh yeah? Do tell,” he said with a quick wave “hello” at Bella as he slid into the booth next to Alice.

“She’s taking this figure drawing class that uses nude models, right? Well, today the model was some hot blond ponytail guy, and he got a boner right in the middle of class while he was watching Bella draw him.”

Jasper’s eyebrows raised while Bella’s knitted. “I never said he was hot. And he did not get a boner because of me.”

“Then why did he say he did?” Alice retorted with an evil grin, turning to her date. “He told her after class that it was gonna be a long semester if she got him that worked up every week. If that’s not a come-on, then I don’t know what is.”

“Stop it, Alice. He was just trying to rattle me. He wasn’t being serious. I’m sure he just got an erection because the entire room was staring at his naked body. You know, like an involuntary physiological response.”

“Ha! You wish. You said the guy’s little soldier was saluting right at you. Jasper, we need a male point of view on this. Was he hitting on Bella or not?”

Jasper raised a careful eyebrow at Alice, then Bella. “Well, most guys are pretty direct. If he said you were responsible for his . . . military salute, then he probably meant it.”

“Ha!” Alice exclaimed in triumph.

“However,” Jasper continued, giving Alice the eyebrow again, “Guys love to tease girls in general, especially the shy ones who look like they’d be easily embarrassed.”

Bella flashed Alice a smug grin. “Exactly! That’s me, right there. I blush at the drop of a hat. It’s so annoying. I can never fool anybody.”

Jasper caught Alice’s pout from the corner of his eye and added one more thought. “Then again, he wouldn’t bother to tease you like that if he wasn’t attracted to you. So, yeah, he was hitting on you. Pretty blatantly, actually.”

Bella’s expression soured while Alice bounced giddily in her seat a couple of times. “Thank you, Jasper. The voice of reason. Oh, man, Edward is gonna be so pissed.”

Bella’s eyes bulged. “Don’t tell Edward,” she pleaded.

“Why not? It’ll be good for him to know he’s got a little competition,“ she asserted.

“But he doesn’t. And I’m not interested in jerking him around like that.”

Alice waved a dismissive hand. “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. Do not underestimate the power of a little good, old-fashioned jealousy. Let him sweat a little.”

Jasper gave her a suspicious look. “Should I be worried about this philosophy of yours?”

“I don’t know. Are you currently boning other women for money?”

Jasper looked taken aback at Alice’s candor, then quickly recovered. “Not that I know of. Can’t say I’ve had the opportunity, though. The day is young.”

Alice caught the teasing glint in his eyes and good-naturedly elbowed his arm.

“That’s not fair,” Bella protested, feeling a little affronted at Alice’s cavalier words. “You know Edward is trying to get out of the business.”

“I know he wants to. I’d just like to see him back that up with a little action. If he’s got something in the works, he hasn’t told me what it is.”

Alice’s eyes were piercing, questioning. Evidently Edward didn’t let her in on his secrets, either. So much for getting any information out of his cousin, Bella thought with disappointment. Though Edward had alluded to some plan to leave escorting behind, she was hesitant to press him on the matter. For one thing, she still felt oddly hypocritical demanding such a thing, when Edward’s occupation was what had brought them together. And for another, she was afraid to hope for something that might not happen for awhile.

Or ever.

Alice’s face fell a little when she realized Bella didn’t know any more than she did. Damn Edward, anyway - he always played his cards close to the vest. She hated when he didn’t let her in, especially now that Em could no longer be her confidante. As hell-bent as he was on keeping their family’s legacy intact, he sure could use a lesson in what the word “family” really meant.

Jasper cleared his throat and steered the conversation back to its original topic in an attempt to soothe a sore subject. “So, Bella: how does one enroll in this naked drawing class of yours? I’m thinking I should broaden my studies to include more of the fine arts. I mean, nude figure study could greatly enrich my understanding of the fundamentals of mechanical engineering.”

The girls both giggled, especially Alice, which was what he was after. His slow, easy grin reminded Bella of Edward. Then again, pretty much anything reminded her of him nowadays.

“I’ll see if there’s an opening. You never know - after today, maybe a couple of people were offended enough to drop the class.”

“What class is that?”

Bella nearly jumped out of the booth at the sound of talking velvet coming from behind her.

“Edward!” she and Alice exclaimed in unison. Bella looked up to see the object of her affection standing right there, hand on the back of the booth, eyes on her. His smile grew as fast as hers did once their eyes met. She quickly scooted over so he could sit down next to her, pressing his blue-jean-covered thigh against hers. The warmth that engulfed her seemed surreal. She barely heard Alice yammering as she stared up at Edward’s glorious face after three century-long days apart.

“We were talking about Bella’s art class,“ Alice explained. “She gets to draw hot, naked guys with massive stiffies while I’m sitting through mind-numbing economics lectures.”

Edward raised one inquisitive brow, still staring at Bella.

“It wasn’t massive,” she quickly clarified. “It was no big deal. Literally.”

Both of Edward’s eyebrows were aloft now, as was the corner of his mouth, forming a bemused grin. “Sounds like the art models got a little more interesting today, huh?”

“You knew about this?” Alice looked a little deflated by the fact.

“I did,” he confirmed. “But Tuesday’s class had a female model.”

“Again, how do I get into this class, Bella? What‘s the name of it?” Jasper piped up with a laugh. His grin quickly faded under Edward’s withering look.

“Edward, you remember Jasper from last weekend, right?” Alice interjected quickly, giving her cousin a kick under the table. He flinched slightly but otherwise hid his irritation.

“Sure. Nice to see you again,” he said coolly.

“Likewise. Glad you could make it today.” Jasper’s effort at civility was only slightly warmer.

Alice’s shook her head in exasperation. “Anyway,” she continued, “the guy Bella was drawing today had a real thing for her. So to speak.”

“Is that so?“ Edward turned expectantly to the girl sitting next to him for explanation. She squirmed uncomfortably under the laser probe of his eyes.

“No. He was just being a jerk,” Bella mumbled.

Edward frowned while Alice filled in the blanks. “He complimented her drawing and then told her she was the reason he was sporting wood through half the class. So you be the judge.”

Edward’s laser eyes narrowed into tractor beams, aimed at Bella with the purpose of pulling the truth from her. She felt the usual traitorous blush warm her face.

“I’m sure he wasn’t serious,” she insisted once more. “He was just trying to get a rise out of me.”

Jasper and Alice stifled guffaws at the double-entendre, and Bella’s face turned redder.

“Don’t even say it,” she implored. “I walked right into that one.”

She hesitantly looked up at Edward, who was still frowning. “Don’t worry about it,” she told him. “I don’t even know how often we’re going to have models in class. I may never have to deal with him again.”

“Well, if he gives you any more trouble, you tell me. I’ll take care of it.”

Bella felt a slight chill at his tone. His mouth was set in a hard line, jaw clenched, eyes resembling chips of black ice again. He was dead serious. Instead of arguing that it wouldn‘t come to that, she found herself nodding in silent agreement. His fierce protectiveness was reassuring.

And, she had to admit, kind of hot.

Bella was thankful when the arrival of their waitress effectively halted the art class conversation. After they placed their orders, Bella grabbed Edward’s hand under the table.

“I’m glad you could come,” she said softly.

“I wanted to see you before you left for the weekend.” He squeezed her hand, then began rubbing his thumb over the base of hers.

“Were you excited to get my text message this morning?”

“Ecstatic,” he said with a relieved grin. “We dodged a bullet.”

“I suppose so. I still think you were worrying for nothing.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “But I made another appointment at the clinic to get some birth control anyway.”

“Smart girl,” he said. “So, have you given any more thought to what you want to do on your birthday?”

“I have,” she said, her face brightening. “I already know a couple of fun places we can go. But I’m not telling you what they are yet - it’s a surprise.”

“Wait a minute. The birthday girl is the one who’s supposed to get the surprises, not the other way around.”

“You can surprise me later. But I get out of class at 3:30 on Tuesday, and I know just where you can take me for the rest of the afternoon.” She bounced a little in her seat and wondered if Alice’s boundless enthusiasm was rubbing off on her.

“I’m intrigued,” Edward replied, arching one thick, angular brow. “I think I like that compromise. You surprise me at the beginning of the evening, and I’ll surprise you at the end of it.”

The innuendo was hard to miss, and she felt the familiar shiver of anticipation ripple over her skin.

“Wait - did I hear the word ‘birthday’?” Alice exclaimed from across the table. “Bella, is your birthday coming up?”

“Yeah, next Tuesday,” she admitted.

“Really? Are you having a party? We should have a party!” She began bouncing again, eyes shining a bit too zealously for Bella‘s liking.

“We are having a party,” Edward informed her. “A party of two.” He let go of Bella’s hand and put his arm around her shoulder to illustrate his point.

“Oh, I see,” Alice commented with a sly little grin. “Well, what about the night before? We could all go out to dinner or something. What do you think?” She gave Bella a hopeful look.

“Well, actually, I am going out with some friends Monday night,” she admitted, feeling a bit sheepish. She dreaded having to tell Edward she was going out with Mike, even though he obviously had no leg to stand on when it came to her seeing other guys. But maybe he wouldn’t be bothered as much if his cousin was there, too.

“You know, you should come with us,” Bella suggested, perking up at the prospect of Alice and Jasper joining the group. “I think we’re just going to play some pool somewhere. I’d love it if you could all be there.” She gave Edward a wistful look, assuming he would be working. The shadow of guilt clouding his face confirmed it.

“Sure! Sounds like fun,” Alice said immediately, and Jasper agreed.

“I can pick Alice up and meet you,” he offered. “Are you going someplace close to campus?”

“I’m don’t know yet. My friend Mike is arranging it. I’m sure he’ll text me the details soon, so I’ll let you know.”

“Mike,” Edward echoed in poorly concealed displeasure. “So, your ex-boyfriend is throwing you a birthday party.”

Alice’s mouth formed a small “O” at that bit of information.

“No. Not a party. Just an informal gathering. A few old friends, maybe some of his frat buddies - I don’t really know. It’s not a big deal.” Why did she keep finding herself saying that?

“Don’t worry, Edward. We’ll keep an eye on this Mike guy,” Alice assured him. “Right, Jasper?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, taking the opening to get in good with Alice’s cousin.

“That really won’t be necessary,” Bella protested. “Mike is harmless. Persistent, maybe, but harmless.”

“Hmm.” Edward gave her a skeptical look. “I hope so.”

Bella sighed, now finding his over-protectiveness more annoying than hot. An awkward lull in the conversation prompted the irrepressible Alice to introduce a new subject.

“So, Edward, how was Em this morning?”

“Not too bad. A little disappointed. I told her I was going to meet you for lunch and she asked me why you didn’t come with me today. She thought it would be nice if the three of us ate lunch together.”

Though Edward’s tone was gentle, Alice still winced as if he’d struck her. “She asked about me?”

He nodded. “She remembered that it’s been a few weeks since you visited her.” He could not keep the reproach from his voice this time.

That figures, she thought. Her grandmother usually couldn’t remember what she ate for breakfast - or if she ate at all - but she had to go and remember that.

“I’ll go see her tomorrow,” she murmured guiltily. She suddenly felt the warmth of Jasper’s hand on her leg under the table, giving her a quick, reassuring squeeze. She put her hand over his, squeezing back gratefully. He turned his palm up and laced his fingers between hers. Alice smiled down at their hands joined together, knowing, without question, that she’d found “family” in him.

She was the grateful one this time when the waitress interrupted their conversation, carrying platters of steaming burgers and fries. The rest of the lunchtime talk consisted mostly of Bella trying to convince everyone at the table not to buy her birthday presents while they ignored her and tried to figure out what she would like.

“I already know what Bella will like,” Edward said cryptically before popping a ketchup-coated fry in his mouth.

“You do, huh?” Bella replied, beginning to warm up to the idea of getting a gift from him.

“Absolutely,” he replied with a wicked smirk.

“Well, then, share that with the rest of us who don’t know her as well as you do,” Alice prompted.

“Later,” he promised. “When the birthday girl isn’t within earshot.”

Bella shot him an exasperated look before turning to Alice. “Honestly, you don’t have to get me anything. I mean, we just met. Having you and Jasper come celebrate with me Monday night is really the best present.”

“Aw, that’s very Hallmark of you, Bella. But I’m not showing up empty-handed at your party. Don’t worry, I already have an idea.”

But the mischievous twinkle in Alice’s eye only made Bella worry all the more.

After lunch, she tried again in vain to convince Edward to ditch the gift idea as he walked her to her truck.

“Please tell Alice and Jasper not to give me anything. I hate getting presents - it’s embarrassing,” she lamented.

“Embarrassing?” Edward repeated with a laugh. He grabbed her hand and linked his fingers through hers as they strolled, unhurried, down the sidewalk.

“Yeah. I hate being the center of attention like that, getting stuff from people for no good reason when I don’t have anything to give back.”

Edward seemed to find that amusing as well. “First of all, your birthday is a very good reason for people to celebrate and give you things. And second, you already give us something invaluable in return.”

“Really? What’s that?”

“Your friendship,“ he answered.

They’d reached the big red rust bucket by then. Edward leaned one hand against it, his outstretched arm blocking Bella from walking any further.

“And your honesty,” he continued, leaning in closer, backing her against the passenger door. “And that uncanny insight of yours. And your selflessness.”

She let out a small laugh and shook her head. “I’m not selfless. I’m selfish. I want something I have no right to ask for. You can buy me all the presents you like, but you know what I really want.”

He nodded, lifting his other hand to her face, sending those damned shivers in every direction though the weather outside was balmy. I want to be the only one you touch this way, she thought.

“I want the same thing,” he whispered, as if he could read her mind. His lips hovered mere inches away, his eyes holding hers hostage. She felt his fingers wander along the side of her face, down to her jaw, then slowly over her trembling bottom lip.

“I want to give you everything,” he said in that velveteen voice, his breath mingling with hers as his head dropped closer. “Everything you deserve.”

His mouth muffled any argument from her about what she did or didn’t deserve, and preempted any guarantee of what he could or couldn’t give her. There was only this kiss, here and now, on a busy street filled with passersby who saw nothing more than the promise of a boy and girl falling in love.