Chapter 36

“I can’t believe you actually chose to spend part of your birthday in an activity that involves rented shoes.”

Edward glanced accusingly at Bella before kneeling down to tie the shoelaces of the ugly tri-colored leather that now adorned his feet. She giggled from the molded plastic seat next to his and pulled the laces of her own shoes tighter.

“Hey,” she protested, tying her right shoe in a neat bow. “Bowling is the only sport I’m even remotely good at. And also the one with the least possibility of me inflicting injury on others.”

“Why is that?” he asked with a laugh.

“Because the ball is too heavy for me to accidentally hit anyone with it,” she explained. “Watch out for your toes, though.”

“Thanks for the warning. But these shoes are so vile, I’m pretty sure they’d repel the ball before it could do any damage.”

He stood up and shook out the legs of his jeans one by one, trying to get the denim to cover up the eyesores on his feet. No such luck. He looked sideways at Bella, whose rolled cuffs exposed the rentals to full effect. She still looked adorable. Sexy, even. It was hard not to with jeans so tight they looked glued to her gorgeous ass.

“Girls don‘t know how good they have it,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “Your feet are so tiny that these things actually look cute on you. On me, they look like clown shoes.”

She stood to face him, rolling her eyes, but still grinning ear to ear. “I kind of like your big clown feet,” she said, looking down at them, marveling at the difference in size from her own. Her eyes traveled slowly up his body, enjoying the rest of the differences between them.

“They go with your big hands,” she added, grabbing his long, warm fingers between hers. “And your big . . .” Her eyes wandered down to the button fly of his faded jeans, then rested on his chest as she finished, “. . . heart.”

She smiled sweetly, mischievously up at him, and everything within him began buzzing. Humming. Thrumming. She did this to him every time. Every fucking time. With absolutely no effort at all. Why did it always surprise him? Not that it happened, no; but how acutely, how intensely the feeling engulfed him.

Happiness.

“Well, my, uh, heart just grew three sizes today,” he informed her, gripping her hands tightly and pulling her closer.

Her eyebrows shot up as she searched for a witty comeback. But damn him, she couldn’t think when he was this close to her, staring down at her with those bedroom eyes beneath their thick fringe of lashes, that cocky smirk tantalizing her with its proximity to her lips. He never played fair.

“So, if you‘re the Grinch, does that make me Christmas?” she said at last.

His smirk turned into something more genuine. “Yes. I couldn’t keep you from coming,” he murmured, his lips grazing hers. “I wouldn’t want to.”

And then he kissed Bella again, leaning into her slightly, swaying with her as she pushed back against him. He’d already lost track of their kisses today. He was afraid he’d never get her out of her dorm room, he was so hungry for her. As soon as he saw her, it hit him full-force that he hadn’t gone a week without sex for over two years, which both appalled and aroused him. He wanted her in the worst way, then and there. He wanted to strip her, throw her on the tiny dorm bed and fuck her seven ways ‘til Sunday.

He’d managed to get her to the car instead, then covered her with kisses the minute they were strapped into their seatbelts. She returned them with a fervor that almost sent them into the backseat. Only the unsavory thought of Bella’s twentieth-birthday sex happening in a U-Dub parking garage kept Edward’s dick in his pants and his hands on the steering wheel.

And now, here he was in the middle of a bowling alley on a Tuesday afternoon, feeling his dick get hard again, despite the after-school kids filtering in and taking up lanes around them. To be fair, this bowling alley was one of those black-lit, neon strobe light affairs, affording a club-like atmosphere that was far removed from the bowling alleys of yore. The availability of beer didn’t help matters.

Edward and Bella’s insatiable lips broke apart slightly, sighing a little, their frustrated sounds swallowed in the backbeat of a sound system cranking up some kind of techno music.

“Isn’t this kind of distracting for the bowlers?” he wondered aloud.

Her torso gave his a playful shove. “This place isn’t for serious bowling. It’s for fun.” She screwed up her face and studied him for a moment. “You aren’t seriously squicked out by the rented shoes, are you?”

He laughed and shook his head. “No. Well, unless I end up with a nasty case of athlete’s foot. I just like giving you a hard time.”

She smiled in satisfaction. “Good. Otherwise I might think you were a complete pansy-ass.”

“Pansy-ass?” Edward repeated, nostrils flaring. “Oh, that’s it. I am showing you no mercy today, even if it is your birthday.” He hadn’t let go of her hands, so he gave them a meaningful squeeze.

“Bring it, Masen,” she retorted. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Hmm. We’ll see.”

“We will,” Bella agreed, a tiny thrill racing through her at the wickedness in his eyes. “So . . . I guess we’d better go grab a couple of balls and get started.”

“Grabbing a couple of balls is an excellent idea, Miss Swan. Ladies first.”

They stared at each other for a moment, taunting. Daring. She finally broke the spell, brushing past him and heading for the bowling ball racks behind the lanes. But on the way, she managed to slip her fingers between his legs and give Junior a good, solid grab.

“Fuck,” he hissed to himself, watching her glide away. How the hell would he make it another five or six hours until he was alone with her?

The actual act of bowling did nothing to help matters. After gamely following her to the racks to choose a bowling ball, Edward took a couple of practice shots, then settled in behind the automatic scorer while Bella warmed up. He soon realized he was a goner, watching the backside of her curvy little ass repeatedly wiggle its way down the lane as she endeavored to turn gutter balls into strikes.

He tried to remember the last time he’d been this blatantly horny. During adolescence, surely. It was strangely exhilarating, this hormonally driven high. Maybe it was because there was something else sparking his hormones to life this time. Something much stronger than simple biology or chemistry. Something that went way beyond desire; that tapped into the very core of his existence.

He knew what it was. What to name it. Could he say the words this time, when it counted?

His musings were distracted by a victory shriek. He looked up in time to see Bella whirl around to face him, fists pumping the air, face painted in elation. A quick glance down the lane at pins scattered in every direction proved that she had just bowled her first strike of the evening.

“Did you see that?” she exclaimed as she sauntered back to the scoreboard where Edward sat, whistling and applauding. She did a little “boo-ya” dance in front of him until he laughed and made a grab for her, pulling her onto his lap, arms encircling her. She giggled and wrapped her arm around his shoulder, her eyes locking with his. There was that look again - the one he’d been giving her all afternoon. The one she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before. So stark and naked; so earnest in its demands. Raw hunger. Yearning, maybe. She didn’t know what to call it.

She knew what she wanted to call it. What she felt washing over every cell of her body as she swam in the deep sea of his consuming gaze.

And then the sea parted, divided by the blinking and crinkling of his eyes, before settling into more navigable waters.

“Nice throw! You bowled a strike already - impressive. Too bad that was just a practice shot,” he remarked, eyes swirling with mischief, tongue clucking in pity.

“No, that was my first turn. Didn’t you hear me announce it? We’re officially playing now. For real.”

She was lying. She’d said no such thing, and Edward knew it. But he wasn’t sure she was talking about the game anymore. Neither was she.

“I must not have heard you over the music,” he acquiesced. “All right, birthday girl. Your first turn is a strike.” He gave her what was meant to be a peck, but turned into a lingering kiss. The noisy music couldn’t prevent Bella from hearing the little rumbling sound in his throat when they parted. He gave her an indulgent grin, then reset the electronic scorer so that her strike registered as her first turn.

“Thank you,” she whispered, leaning in and pressing her nose to his. This led to a series of tiny butterfly kisses before she tore herself away and said, “Your turn.”

She reluctantly scooted off of his lap so he could get up and retrieve his bowling ball, much larger and heavier than the one she’d chosen. She knew he’d mop the floor with her using that thing. She didn’t care. She already felt like she was the winner when he gave her that irresistible smirk of his before turning his gorgeous backside to her and lining up the shot.

He managed to pick up a spare, taking down eight of the ten pins before nailing the last two with a throw that narrowly missed hitting the mark. Bella clapped and cheered as Edward returned to the seat next to hers.

“Figures you’d be good at bowling, too,” she said in mild exasperation.

“I’m mediocre at bowling. I got lucky with that shot.” He frowned at her. “What did you mean by that crack, anyway?”

“Nothing. Just, you know, you’re sort of annoyingly perfect sometimes. I always have to search for flaws.” She laughed, but Edward couldn’t join her.

“I have plenty of flaws. Glaring ones,“ he argued. A list of his more obvious foibles ran rampant through his head while Bella only smiled and shook her head.

“If that’s what you think, then you’re too hard on yourself.” She reached her hand out to the side of his face, giving his stubbly jaw a gentle stroke before she rose to take her turn.

“Maybe you’re too easy on me,” he mumbled after her, his words swallowed in the relentless techno-beat shaking the laminate floor beneath his rented shoes. This place really was piss-poor for the sport of bowling, he thought.

His mind strayed to his brief conversation with Rosalie earlier. She hadn’t returned his call from the hotel last night until she got to the office this morning. She claimed not to have time to meet with him today, so she set up an appointment for tomorrow instead. Now that he had made the decision to be upfront with her, he hated waiting. Putting him off was probably just another power play of hers, he thought grimly. She was the type who always liked to have the upper hand.

He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say to her. He wanted to burst through her office door and shout the proverbial “take this job and shove it,” but he knew he couldn’t afford to be that reckless. He wished to God he could. He hated the fear that seized him at the idea of throwing away his safety net. Fear made him feel spineless and weak. It made him feel ten years old again, helpless and alone, terrified at the loss of his parents. The woman who had taken that fear away, who had replaced it with warmth and security and love, barely remembered it now. But Edward did. And he’d be damned if he didn’t make sure she was as safe and cared for now as she’d made him feel all those years.

Was he foolish to hope that Rosalie would keep him on awhile longer despite his reluctance to sleep with clients? Maybe she could try to set him up on legitimate dates only, with women who were unlikely to want more at the end of the evening. She couldn’t force him to do anything illegal, or fire him for his refusal. But she most certainly could phase him out of the schedule until he had no choice but to quit. And then it wouldn’t be long before he’d be struggling to pay for his grandmother’s continued stay at Tranquility Gardens.

“I know, I suck,” came Bella’s dejected voice, interrupting his preoccupation once more. “So much for my lucky strike.“

He started and snuck a guilty look at the automated scoreboard, which showed him that Bella had thrown a gutter ball this time. The frown he’d been wearing when she headed back to the ball return was a lucky coincidence. He cursed himself under his breath. This was Bella’s day - she should have his undivided attention now. He could worry about his meeting with Rosalie tomorrow.

“You don’t suck,” he assured her, jumping to his feet. “You just need to work on your technique a little. Here, let me help you.”

He joined Bella at the ball return. Once she‘d retrieved her ball, he positioned her the proper distance behind the foul line. He proceeded to give her the few tips he knew, such as the best way to hold the ball, where to aim, how many steps to take, and when to release the ball. He walked her through it in slow motion, stopping short of actually completing the throw.

Bella tried to listen to his instructions, and coordinate her body the way he showed her. But she was once again distracted by the mere nearness of him - the vibration of that honeyed voice down her spine; the warmth of his body behind hers; the heat of his hands gently guiding her efforts. She couldn’t help but compare this to Mike’s similar attempts at the dart board last night. Then, she’d been mostly annoyed by his interruption of her concentration. But now, with Edward, she was having trouble concentrating at all. How could he still affect her this way? Still send such tingles and flutters through her body that her brain turned to mush?

“Okay, I got it,” she told him, glancing over her shoulder at his encouraging smile as he stepped away. She muttered his instructions to herself as she lined up the shot, willing her concentration, and coordination, to return. “Hold the ball up, in front of my chest. Look down the lane; aim to the right of the middle arrow. Four steps. Left foot first, push the ball out; right foot, bring the ball down; left foot, swing the ball back; right foot, crouch, swing, release.”

She watched the ball fly from her fingers and propel itself down the lane, zooming between the two inlaid arrows Edward had suggested she aim for. It curved as it made its way toward the pit, but then veered back between the front pin and its neighbor to the right. She knew before the pins hit the wood that it was a strike.

“Yes!” she shouted in exhilaration as the noisy impact of the ball annihilating the pins rang out over the electronic music. She whirled to face Edward, arms forming a “V” once more. His smile was huge as he slapped his hands to hers, double high fives that turned into more hand-holding and kissing.

“See? You had it in you all along,” he told her after his lips finally released hers.

“Yeah, but I never knew what I was doing before. I just threw the ball and hoped for the best. Now I actually have a plan, thanks to you,” she said. She squinted up at him a moment, appraising. “You’re good at that.”

“At what?”

“Teaching me. Bringing out the best in me. Making me believe I can do it.”

“Do what?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting. He wondered, as always, if she was referring to the fucked-up situation he’d allowed them both to get into by pursuing her.

“Anything,” she answered immediately. “Anything I put my mind to. You make me brave, somehow.”

He let out a soft snort. How the hell could he make her feel brave, when he felt like such a fucking coward half the time?

“Bella, you’ve been brave all along. I had nothing to do with that.”

“I don’t know,“ she disagreed. She put her hand on his chest, pressing until she felt the beat of his heart beneath her fingers. She looked up into his doubtful eyes, wondering what it would take to convince him. “Maybe I wouldn’t be so brave if you didn’t give me a good reason to be.”

He smiled at the irony. “Well, you should know all about that.”

It was her turn to ask for clarification. “About what?”

“Good reasons. You’re the best one I’ve found.”

She still appeared puzzled. “For what?”

Being brave myself. Letting go. Moving forward. Trying to recapture my lifelong dream. Remembering why I had it in the first place. The answers tumbled through his brain, too numerous to list here in this noisy, neon bowling alley.

So he simply said, “Being a better man.”

He leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead, then went to take his turn.

# # # # # # # # # #

Edward peered at the menu, trying in vain to read the small print. He held it closer to the tepid glow of a tiny light sconce affixed at the end of the booth until he could read the descriptions.

“You’re sure the food here is good?” he asked Bella. He gave the dimly lit room a skeptical once-over. The furnishings inside the India Café were dated and worn, but at least it looked marginally clean.

“Best Indian food I’ve ever had,” she declared, then added a sheepish disclaimer. “Of course, I haven’t eaten in a lot of Indian restaurants. I know the décor is pretty plain in here, but the tikka masala is great. I have it all the time.”

“Yeah?” he said warily. “All right. I’ll try it.”

Bella grinned. “You’re not used to slumming it anymore, are you?”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I guess not,” he admitted. He’d never thought of himself as spoiled, but he suddenly realized he’d gotten used to the advantages escorting had afforded him. The best restaurants, hotels, clubs, theaters and galleries had become his regular haunts. But when he was in college, dives and dingy bars were his stomping grounds. He assumed the fact that he still shopped in thrift stores and ate his breakfast at the diner had kept him more grounded. Christ. When did he become such a snob?

“Welcome back to university life,” Bella teased. “I’m always on the lookout for a bargain.”

“I remember it well,” he said. “I don’t care about the atmosphere, as long as the food is good. But today is your birthday - you don’t have to cut corners. I’m paying. We can go anywhere, do anything you want tonight.”

“Edward, you’re escorting to be able to afford your grandmother’s medical care, which happens to be insanely expensive. You can’t comp tonight with your agency, can you?”

He shook his head slightly. He supposed he could have lied to Rosalie and claimed tonight‘s date was a paid one, but she preferred bookings to go through her rather than her employees. He didn’t need to add another misstep to the laundry list she‘d probably compiled.

“All right, then,” Bella concluded. “I don’t need you to waste a lot of money on me. We can have a good time without it.”

“It wouldn’t be a waste. You could never be a waste of anything.”

She was swallowed up in that look again, his eyes dark and devouring in the ambient glow of their tiny booth. She felt the heat of it spread between her thighs, and she shifted slightly in her seat, like that might extinguish the burning. The sexy grin that stole over his lips did nothing to help matters.

“You’re right though,” he said. “We can have a very good time without spending a dime.”

She remembered one of the first things he ever said to her, and repeated it back to him now. “You rhymed.”

“Your rhyming prowess must be rubbing off on me, Swan-I-am,” he answered. “Which reminds me, when are you going to let me read more of your poems? Or see your artwork?”

“I don’t know. When are you going to play the piano again for me?” she countered.

“Whenever you like,” he answered evenly. “The opportunity hasn’t presented itself lately.”

“But if it did, would you take it?” Her eyes were sparkling now, reminding him of their first dinner together, when she was so eager to hear him perform.

“Do you know something I don’t?” he asked, quirking a suspicious brow at her.

“Of course not,” she said, grinning impishly. She definitely had something up her sleeve.

“Bella,” Edward said, using his smoothest, most persuasive tone. “What do you have planned after dinner?”

“It’s a surprise,” was her cryptic reply.

“I told you before, the birthday girl is the one who’s supposed to be getting the surprises, not giving them.”

“But surprising you is one of the things I want for my birthday. You wouldn’t want to deny me my birthday wish, would you?”

“Heaven forbid. Your wish is my command. At least for tonight,” he added with a grin.

“I’ll remember that,“ she replied, returning his smirk. But her smile faded quickly as another thought hit her. “So, you did throw that second bowling set, didn’t you?”

“No. No way,” he denied. “Do you really think I’d let you win just because it’s your birthday?”

He‘d barely gotten the words out before she blurted an emphatic, “Yes.”

He tried to stifle his grin. “You’re wrong. I told you I was showing you no mercy tonight. You won fair and square.”

“Thanks to your pointers,” she reminded him. “And only by six points - a whopping 123 to 117. Not exactly something to brag about.”

“So bowling isn’t our forte,” he said, laughing along with her. “I can think of a couple of other areas where we excel.”

A few of those areas popped into Bella’s head, and her cheeks warmed accordingly. She wondered if he could see the flush on her face in the dusky light. She also wondered when he would stop having this effect on her, especially when he’d asked her from the start to let go of her inhibitions. There’s no room for self-consciousness here. . .

He stared across the table, caught up in that bashful yet knowing grin of hers that was still his undoing. He couldn’t wait to get her alone so he could erase that blush from her pretty cheeks and take her to the next level, far beyond self-consciousness. That place where she held nothing back, and neither did he. That place of transcendence, of pure connection. Raw emotion. Naked truth.

Bella wondered if she should be frightened of that look in his eyes. It bordered on a sort of desperation she’d never seen in him before. Could she possibly fill a need that acute? Was she up to the task?

Edward frowned slightly at Bella‘s expression. Her smile had faded, and her eyes had taken on that overwhelmed look they’d had the night they met. Why? The two of them had come so far since then, so fast. Maybe too fast. She had turned his world upside down and made him completely rethink his life in less than one month‘s time. He could only imagine what he’d done to hers.

The arrival of their waiter diffused the intensity of the moment. Bella ordered the paneer tikka masala; Edward chose the chicken. He kept the conversation light after the waiter left. He asked her about her weekend with her father, and she showed him her new phone.

“We can record HD videos on that thing, you know,” he informed her with a devilish grin.

“Pervert,” she replied, giving him a mild kick under the table.

“Why, Miss Swan. What kind of videos did you have in mind?” he protested in mock innocence. “I was only thinking of recording this mystery place you’re taking me to, which may or may not involve a piano.”

She gave him that smug grin again. “You’re right, this phone could come in handy there.”

Edward let out a sigh of frustration. “You do realize you’re going to have to tell me where we’re going eventually, since I’m driving.”

“I know. But I’m prolonging the anticipation as long as possible.”

Bella looked entirely too pleased with herself. Edward wasn’t a fan of delayed gratification, for the most part. But he did derive a perverse sort of pleasure in seeing her lord her secret over him, like a matador waving a red flag in front of a snorting bull. He could be patient if he had to be.

He flashed her his own self-satisfied smile. He had the feeling she’d be waving the white flag of surrender before the night was through.

# # # # # # # # # #

“You've ruined me now
Though I liked it, now I'm ruined
I had no choice
When I heard your voice. . .”

The singer’s words echoed in Bella’s ears. She glanced up at Edward to find him already looking at her. His expression said it all. The song hit home for them both.

He reached for her hand; how many times had he done that this evening? But he needed to be touching her, more now than ever. They’d pulled their chairs close together at the tiny, round table to the right of the stage, so their knees were in constant contact. Now, their clasped hands rested in the narrow space between their thighs. Bella felt her blood throbbing in time with his, in time with the music. It all melded together in a mixture of drowsy, heady lust.

The minute Edward realized where Bella’s directions were taking them after they‘d driven away from the restaurant, he felt like it was his birthday instead of hers. He knew the Highway 99 Blues Club well, but not as well as he would have liked. It was a rare occasion when a Renaissance client wanted to be entertained at a laid-back, Southern-style juke joint like this one. But Bella was clearly at home here, just like she’d been at the understated India Café. Her face glowed brightly in the light of the solitary candle adorning their table. She looked happy.

Edward was elated. It had been too long since he’d enjoyed live music like this. The Blue Catz were a local band, and the average age of the musicians looked to be about thirty. They concentrated mostly on covers of more modern blues rock songs as well as old standards, but occasionally they would throw in an original composition. The rhythm section was solid, if not flashy. The guitarist was a bit more impressive, displaying solid rhythm chops and a rich, fluid tone in his solos. He sang the rock-infused songs, while the female keyboard player took on the more laid-back, jazzy numbers. She was adequate at the piano, but vocals were where she truly shone. Her smoky, mellow timbre vibrated in the air around them, doing admirable justice to the Norah Jones song the band was now covering.

Bella found herself watching Edward as much as the band. She liked observing him as he studied the musicians, his eyes sharp and hawk-like, probably picking apart every bar and measure of the music they played. But he seemed to like what he heard, regardless of the musical training that presumably put him leaps and bounds beyond the abilities of the amateurs onstage. In fact, she’d never seen him so relaxed. He seemed to be in his element here, his head nodding and leg occasionally pumping in time with the music.

She was certain she’d never seen him smile so much. His mouth was stretched in a permanent grin, the corners dimpling, making him look like a kid. Then he would look at her and the smile would grow, every single time. She loved that she could make him smile like that. It made her feel like he reserved it just for her; like she was its sole master. She knew that smile was the best gift he would give her this evening.

“You've ruined me now
But I liked it, but I'm ruined
Do you have a plan?
'Cause I'm in your hands. . .”

As the final verse of the song reverberated through the air, Edward’s smile faded slightly. He had a plan, but it was flimsy, resting solely on the results of the contest that would happen in less than six weeks. He was impatient to move forward, yet worried that a month wasn’t nearly enough rehearsal time. Charlotte was more than generous with her Steinway, but she was no music coach. He had no mentor to guide him as he practiced. He tried to imagine what his professors at Juilliard would have told him; how they would have critiqued his performance. For the most part, Edward knew where he needed work. But it still would’ve been nice to have done this the right way, entering the contest back in May and working with a coach to hone his piece to competitive perfection. He was afraid he was hanging all his hopes on an event that might end in crushing disappointment.

Bella saw his mood shift at the conclusion of the song. She could guess what he was thinking. He’d worried all along that his situation wasn’t fair to her; to either of them. And though he’d made it sound like he had a plan of some kind, he had yet to give her any details. She wished he could be more open with her. She thought they’d made progress the night he took her to his house and bared his soul about his past. But since then, they’d had scant quality time together, and no conversations about anything more meaningful than bowling technique.

She wanted to say something now; to ask him where his mind had wandered. But the music started again, loud and up-tempo, provoking whistles and cheers from the crowd at what was apparently a familiar tune. Edward seemed to know it, too, his face relaxing once more as he got caught up in the melody. He gave her that irresistible smile again and squeezed her hand. Bella couldn’t begrudge him this moment. It wasn’t often that he seemed this content.

As soon as the familiar bars of “Cold Shot” barreled through the room, Edward felt relief wash over him. He didn’t want to think about his shortcomings now - not tonight. Tonight was about Bella’s happiness, right now, in this moment. So he lost himself in the bluesy stomp of the bass and the dirty squeal of the guitar, and hoped that she could feel the music the way he did, lifting his soul out of the murk, carrying it to a better place.

He smiled down at her as he realized she affected him the same way. She was music to him.

He wanted to be that to her, at least for tonight.

The band ended its first set, promising to be back in twenty minutes or so. Edward and Bella decided to find the restrooms, weaving around candle-lit tables, past walls jammed with posters of blues legends, to the back of the club. A predictable line had already formed to the ladies’ room. Bella was still waiting her turn outside the door by the time Edward was done, so he told her he’d meet her back at the table after he ordered them a couple of drinks from the bar.

As he waited for the server to return with his Heinekens, the Blue Catz guitarist squeezed in next to him at the bar and ordered the same. Edward took the opportunity to compliment his skills, which quickly turned into a session of musical shop talk. They managed to cover the topics of favorite instruments, amps, and playing techniques in about ten minutes’ time. And then, with a laugh, they finally exchanged names.

The guitar player’s name was Steve, which prompted a chuckle over the Stevie Ray Vaughn covers the band was so fond of. The arrival of their beers interrupted their conversation, so Edward glanced back to see if Bella had returned yet. The table was still empty. Suddenly an idea popped into his head - an idea that could take this evening to a whole different level, if he could manage to pull it off.

He stopped Steve before he could disappear backstage with his drinks. Now that he was on a first-name basis with the guy, he figured it couldn’t hurt to ask him for a little favor. . .

# # # # # # # # # #

Back in the ladies’ room, Bella finally scored sixty seconds in a stall to hurriedly do her business so the next girl could get her turn. She stopped at the nearest sink to wash her hands and give herself a once-over in the mirror. It hadn’t rained yet this evening, so her hair was still intact, as was her mascara. Her lips were a bit dry, though, so she began ransacking her small bag for a tube of lip gloss. She’d left most of her belongings in her backpack, which was locked in the trunk of Edward’s car.

When she finally came up with the gloss and turned her attention back to the mirror, she started in surprise at who was standing next to her. She was pretty sure it was the blonde from the band who’d been singing so beautifully for the past forty-five minutes. The woman finished washing her hands and glanced in the mirror, only to find Bella gaping openly at her. She laughed a little and gave her a smile, which finally broke Bella out of her stupor.

“I’m sorry I was staring,” she blurted, embarrassed. “It’s just, you were really good out there. I love your voice. That last song . . . That was great.”

“’You Ruined Me?’” the woman replied. “That is a great song. I wish I’d written it,” she added with a laugh.

Bella smiled, her bravery growing. She’d dreamed of having a chance like this, so she wasn’t about to blow it now.

“Your band is great. My boyfriend is really enjoying your show.” There! She’d finally said it. My boyfriend. A strange thrill shot through her at the words. “He’s a musician, too, so this is really fun for him.”

“Oh yeah? What does he play?” the woman said. Bella suspected the blonde was only asking to be polite, but she refused to let that stop her.

“He plays the piano, like you. He’s so good. Really excellent, actually. He went to Juilliard.”

“Really!” the woman exclaimed. “I’m sure he’s unimpressed by my efforts, then.” She let out a chuckle and reached around Bella to the paper towel dispenser. Bella continued, undaunted.

“Oh, no. He’s not like that. He loves all kinds of music, especially blues. I can tell he likes you guys. He’s probably feeling a little jealous, though. He never gets to play anymore.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” The woman threw her paper towel in the waste can, and Bella knew she had better talk fast before she left the bathroom.

“It’s a long story. But he’s incredible, honestly. He can improvise like you wouldn’t believe. He just plays by ear - it’s amazing.”

The singer smiled and began edging toward the door. Bella dodged out of the way of the other girls coming to the sinks, then began talking even faster.

“So, I was wondering, do you ever let musicians sit in? Like, just for one song? Because I’ll bet he would love that, if he could perform onstage for a few minutes. It would mean the world to him. And to me.”

“Well, I don’t know,” the woman hedged, eying the door impatiently. “We sometimes have friends sit in, but usually not strangers from the audience.”

“I promise you won’t be sorry,” Bella implored. She decided to go for broke. “Please? It would be the best birthday present ever.”

The singer seemed to relent a little. “You didn’t tell me it was his birthday.”

“It’s not,” Bella said quietly. “It’s mine.”

The blonde’s expression softened. “Well, Happy Birthday, . . . ?” she trailed off, waiting.

“Bella. My name’s Bella.”

“Nice to meet you, Bella. I’m Jane.” She held out her hand, and Bella gratefully shook it. “Maybe we can work something out.”

# # # # # # # # # #

Edward and Bella’s smug grins were a matched set as they headed back to their table. But smugness soon turned to surprise when they each saw the other approaching at the same time.

“Were you in the bathroom this whole time?” Edward asked, trying to divert attention from his late return.

“Yeah, but you saw that line,” she covered quickly. “It was crazy. I was sure you’d get back here long before I did.”

Edward quickly motioned back to the packed bar. “I had to wait in line for drinks, too,” he explained. “Popular place, huh?”

“Yeah, it is,” she agreed.

Edward sat their beers on the table, then pulled out Bella’s chair for her. She smiled up at him as she sat down, shaking her head a little, like it was silly for him to do that. But his father had always been big on manners. He tried to honor his parents in any small way that he could. Besides, Bella deserved to be treated well. He couldn’t wait to spring his surprise on her.

“So, I picked a good place to spend my birthday, huh?” she remarked, raising her beer as Edward sat close beside her.

“The best,” he quickly agreed, lifting his own bottle to hers in agreement. “But I hope you didn’t pick a blues bar just for me.”

“Well, I kind of did,” she admitted before joining him in a sip of beer. “But I told you, I like all kinds of music. I also like seeing you having a good time. That makes it a good time for me.”

He stared at her, wondering if he’d ever feel like he deserved her. “That works both ways, you know. I just want you to be happy. I’m going to figure out a way to make that happen. I promise.”

She nodded, not arguing with him. It would do no good to tell him he already made her happy - he wouldn’t believe it. Not yet. But maybe one day, he’d get it.

The sound of instruments being tuned met their ears. The band had returned to the stage for their second set, which brought secret smiles to both of their faces. They turned their attention to the stage and waited.

Their anticipation grew with each song. They sat through several blues classics, each one a somebody-done-somebody-wrong lament. Bella’s stomach was in knots. What if Edward refused the band’s offer to come on stage? He wouldn’t be that modest, would he? She wanted nothing more than to see him in his element, and to hear him play for her once more. Surely he’d welcome the opportunity, wouldn’t he?

She soon got her answer. After Jane and Steve finished singing a sultry rendition of “The Thrill is Gone,” Jane leaned into her microphone and addressed the audience.

“All right, I think it’s time to pick things up a little bit,” she said with a smile. “I’ve been informed that there’s a very accomplished pianist here in the audience tonight. I’m thinking I could use a little help in that department with the next song.”

Bella’s heart pounded against her ribcage. She bit her lip, glancing cautiously up at Edward.

Jane put her hand over her eyes to shield them from the lights, scanning the room until she found Bella and her date. “Edward Masen, how would you like to come join us for a little ’Pride and Joy?’”

Edward’s eyebrows skyrocketed as the bar crowd applauded in encouragement. Steve had readily agreed to his request at the bar, but Jane’s invitation to sit in on another Vaughn cover threw him. He certainly hadn’t expected that. So the surprise on his face that Bella had been waiting for was genuine.

The suspicion, however, was missing. Edward looked at her, shrugging and shaking his head as though he didn’t know how he’d been singled out; but he didn’t seem to assume she was behind it. Odd, that.

She dismissed the thought when a rather embarrassed but agreeable Edward pushed his chair back and headed stage right, climbing the couple of steps to reach Jane’s piano. She made a show of waving him onto the bench while she walked over to a nearby mike stand instead.

Edward took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together over the keys. This was it - his first time in front of an audience in over two years. He was surprised at how nervous he was, but he was glad at the same time. He needed this. Maybe it would take the edge off, if only slightly, when he sat down to perform at the Seattle Piano Competition. He shook his hands out, then put them to the keyboards and let them fly. They took off in a series of chords and runs that drew some hoots and hollers from both the band and the audience. He paused and waited for the band to begin, so he would know what key to play in.

Then he stopped thinking, and let instinct take over.

That’s how it always was when he played by ear. He could never explain how he did it - he just did. He knew the song; it was an old favorite of his. He followed along easily with the appropriate honky-tonk embellishments. When Steve cued him to take a solo, he let his fingers find their own path, running up and down the keyboard seemingly of their own volition, creating a surprising symbiosis with the band that seemed to spur them both on. He and Steve ended up trading licks, playing off each other, in a kind of duel that had the crowd shouting its appreciation.

Edward barely heard them. He was no longer in the room, in the physical sense. He felt like he’d left his body and taken off to some realm where there was only the sonic creation around him, and his part in it. He could never explain that feeling to anyone else. He doubted he could even describe it to Bella. It was freedom, it was escape, it was solace.

It was home.

Bella would need no explanation. She saw the transformation on his face. Felt it in his rigid posture, his body bristling with energy. She heard it reverberate all around her, thrilling her, transporting her to a higher ground. He transfixed her, exactly like the first time. He bared his soul in a way that only music could seem to accomplish. And she was every bit as amazed now as she was then. Maybe more so.

She had a whole audience on her side this time, reinforcing her admiration. The crowd erupted in howls of approval when the song careened from a wild crescendo to a dramatically drawn-out close. When the music finally stopped, Edward looked dazed and disoriented, like someone had just awoken him from a dream. Bella wanted to shout up to him, “It’s real. It’s your moment. Take it in. You deserve it.” Instead, she simply clapped and hollered like mad along with everyone else, and hoped against hope that the band might let him play some more.

But nothing could have prepared her for what happened next.

Edward soaked up the applause in stunned silence. He forgot how good this kind of validation felt. How exhilarating it was to surrender to the music; to let it wash over him, cleanse him, leave him renewed in its wake. Was there anything as good as this feeling?

He twisted on the bench to address the crowd, to acknowledge their praise with a modest bow of his head. His gaze fell immediately on Bella, riveted by that porcelain doll face with the huge, chocolate eyes. Was she crying? He couldn’t tell for sure. But he knew he had the answer to his question. There was definitely another feeling as good as the one music gave him, and he was looking at the source right now.

“Thanks, everyone. You all are amazing,” he said into the mike that stretched over the top of the piano. “And huge thanks to the Blue Catz for letting me come up here and defile their keyboards for a little bit,” he added with a grin. “But I have to save a very special thanks for the girl who got me here in the first place.”

He turned his eyes back to Bella‘s; let that warm chocolate melt all around him. “You’re the one who teaches me, every time I‘m with you. You bring out the best in me. You make me believe I can do it.” He paused, wrestling with the emotion that threatened to strangle his vocal chords. He couldn’t afford to lose it now. “Happy Birthday, Bella.”

He finally tore his gaze from hers, his eyes sweeping the audience as he invited them to join him in singing “Happy Birthday” to her. But when he began to play, everyone fell silent instead. He launched into a poignant, slower version of the old birthday standard, embellishing each verse with a gorgeous piano flourish before moving on to the next. He sang the words in a quiet, almost mournful tenor that shocked Bella more than anyone else in the room. She never knew he could sing. He sang almost as beautifully as he played. And the fact that he was opening up to her like this, in front of a room full of people, was nearly more than she could take.

The tears she’d been holding back refused to be contained any longer. They rolled down her cheeks in two hot streams, straight down to her chin. No one had ever done anything like this for her before - made such a grand gesture, yet such an intimate one. Because that was the only word to describe the way Edward sang to her, like she was the only one in the room. She saw, heard, felt only him in return. And when he smiled at her at the end of the song, she laughed through her tears, because the happiness could not be contained, either.

He rose from the bench, blinking back his own tears after seeing hers. He guessed he didn’t need to wonder if she liked it, at any rate. When he’d asked Steve if he could steal a moment onstage to sing to her, he had no idea it would end like this. He had imagined performing a fun, even silly “Happy Birthday to you” that would get the crowd involved and make Bella laugh. But like always, his heart had other plans. It decided to bleed all over the stage in quite the show of unabashed earnestness. But Bella had done that to him from the start, hadn’t she? Dispensed with the niceties and gone straight for the jugular. She still held the throbbing vessel in her hands, and it sang for her tonight.

Edward collected himself and walked out from behind the piano, shaking the hands of the approaching band members and thanking them once more for letting him join them. He saved Jane for last.

“I was really surprised when you asked me to join you on that Stevie Ray song,” he told her. “That was a blast. Really above and beyond the birthday song request. So, thanks for that. Thanks a lot.”

“Don’t thank me,” she said with a smile. “Your girlfriend is the one who begged me to bring you onstage. She was right about you, though. You have quite a gift. Wish I could play by ear like that.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, stunned, as she walked away. He turned and walked to the edge of the stage near Bella, just in time to see her wipe her palms quickly across her tear-streaked face. She looked up at him, her eye make-up smudged, cheeks blotchy, bottom lip caught under her front teeth in that adorable habit of hers.

And in that moment, Edward knew he would never love anyone the way he loved Bella Swan.