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This book was automatically created by FLAG on August 22nd, 2011, based on content retrieved from http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7075424/. The content in this book is copyrighted by ladauphine or their authorised agent(s). All rights are reserved except where explicitly stated otherwise. This story was first published on June 12th, 2011, and was last updated on August 21st, 2011. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated - please email any bugs, problems, feature requests etc. to flag@erayd.net.

Table of Contents

Summary 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9. Chapter 9 10. Chapter 10 11. Chapter 11 12. Chapter 12 13. Chapter 13 14. Chapter 14 15. Chapter 15 16. Chapter 16 17. Chapter 17

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Summary

It's been 10 yrs their break-up as HS sweethearts. Bella's now a major movie star while Edward's become a womanizing rock star. When they reunite at Sundance, sparks fly. But can their love make it through Awards Season? BxE, lemony love, AH, M, etc

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Chapter 1

AWARDS SEASON Summary: Isabella & Edward have known each other since they were small children and fell in love as teenagers. Edward breaks Isabella's heart right as their HS graduation approaches. Heartbroken, she goes to France and becomes a successful actress. Stateside, Edward becomes the bad boy lead-singer of the rock band Masen. With their careers both at an all-time high, Isabella returns to the states for Awards Season. What happens when she returns to the U.S. and therefore to Edward? Will things ever be the way they were in those 1000 days they had together as teenagers? ... Ch. 1 - SUNDANCE Sometimes, you have to face your demons. Even if those demons come in the form of former teenage lovers. Ten years ago, at dusk on a Malibu beach, Edward Cullen ripped my heart to shreds. I never dealt with what happened that day - first he ran away and then I did - but now, what seemed like a lifetime later, I was ready to heal. As the car made it's way along the winding highway headed towards Park City and the annual Sundance Film Festival I was there to attend, Fleetwood Mac's "Landslide" came onto the radio. I took my love, I took it down Climbed a mountain and I turned around And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills Till the landslide brought me down Was I truly ready for this? So many things had changed, yet stayed the same, that my mind was positively spinning. I knew I was finally making the right decision to come back and face those demons. I needed to do this to move on with my life once and for all. But, let me tell you, that first step was a real doozy.

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When I left Paris, I thought, Well, if I'm gonna do this I'm gonna do it all the way. After years of refusing to do any press about my movies or go to premieres in the states, I finally gave my agent the green light to book me. Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? Can the child within my heart rise above? Can I sail through the changing ocean tides? Can I handle the seasons of my life? Mmm, mmm, mmm "I'll do anything you want," I said into the phone, silently praying I'd made the right decision. I knew somewhere deep down in my soul it was now or never. I had to take a leap of faith. "It's all or nothing this time, Isabella," her voice warned me. "We can screen 'Two Seater' at Sundance as your coming out and then," she paused a little too dramatically. "Then...the hard work really starts. We're talking awards season, darling!" I could hear the wheels spinning in her head as she planned out the next year of my life. "I will get you an Oscar nomination for 'Harness', you just wait and see!" Well, I've been afraid of changing 'Cause I've built my life around you But time makes you bolder Even children get older and I'm getting older too Four months after that phone call, I was headed towards our family cabin in Park City, Utah, attending the Sundance Film Festival. As soon I did my first event, I realized everything was crazier than I thought it would be. The attention was overwhelming and exhausting. Fame in France was a decidedly different beast than in America. Here, everyone wanted a piece of you. It was invasive. My gut reaction was to bolt, but that was what I'd always donerun from my problems. This time, though, I was running back into them. Head on. "There she is!" I heard my adorably rowdy twin brother Emmett yell as I walked into the sunken living room of the cabin.
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My family had always spent holidays at the cabin to get away from L.A., and of course, it was the best crash pad during Sundance. The cabin was always extraordinarily significant to methe holidays we spent here were some of the happiest memories of my life. I had vivid, technicolor memories of my mother holding court, welcoming guests as they arrived for our annual pre-Thanksgiving bash. She would stand next to the fireplace, in one of her couture Chanel gowns, pearls dripping from her neck, with a glass of champagne in her hand. Her laughter would always fill the roomher spirit, well, it was contagious. Our time in Park City as a family was always especially meaningful because this place was the polar opposite of L.A., where we lived full time, except during Sundancewhen Park City was dubbed "Hollywood Mountain." Without warning, Emmett picked me up at the waist and began spinning me around. "You are a sight for sore eyes, Sissy," he laughed. "You too, Emmy," I said, hugging him hard. I missed his hugs, so strong and genuine. There were a lot of voices in the house, and I could not tell where they were all coming from or who, exactly, was in the housewas he here? I just tried to let myself enjoy the moment, as I had not seen Emmett in ages. He had come to France several times, but I would rarely take his calls or answer the door. He was the closest person in the world to me, but I pushed him away, too. I pushed everyone away. Everyone I had let close to me had let me down, and I was too scared to let anyone back in. I now know that he was trying to help me, to heal my heart, but I was so consumed with grief and fear that I could not accept his help. I retreated into my own private world. It was like no one from my past life existed. Because if they didn't exist, they couldn't hurt me. Well, I was here to face all my demons now. "Is that Isabella Swan or do my eyes deceive me?" I heard Jasper say. Ah, Jasper Cullen. My brother's oldest friend and band mate. Jasper's the guy you warn your best friends about but then want to hear all the deliciously dirty details the next day. He was the boy who always managed to have five girlfriends at once in high school, and the girlsthis was the extent of his charmwould somehow be okay with it. We used to marvel at his skillsoften teasing him that he would end up here, in Utah, with five wives. "Hey Jay," I poked him in ribs, "how are the wives?" He kissed my cheek, laughing, and unabashedly giving me the up-down, looking at me from head to foot. Jasper had this way of looking right into your soul. I was grateful, somewhere deep down, that I thought of him more as a brother than anything else because he just might be capable of more heartbreak than his older
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brother. "You look incred" he started to say, but we were all startled by the sound of something crashing onto the marble floor in the foyer. The sound of footsteps followed and some rather loud swearing. Then I saw Emmett's face turn an ashen color as he looked over my shoulder. I started to take off my jacket as I turned around to see why Emmy was looking so strangely at whatever he saw there. All the air was sucked out of the room as an overwhelming silence took over. I turned and caught his gazeah, there he was, the elephant in the room. Edward Cullen. The copper-haired boy who had broken my heart ten years before on a deserted Malibu beach. Even though I'd seen pictures of him on the Internet and TV, I did not expect him to have grown so handsome with age. Sporting a full mountain-man beard and obviously caught off guard, he stumbled into the living room and smiled at me. Although he'd grown from a boy to a man, he still had his trademark wonky legs, flailing about as he stumbled closer to me. I could feel my heart start to palpitate just at the sight of him. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Emmett and Jasper were standing there unsure of what to do. I did sympathize with themthis reunion could get ugly, quick, so I tried to break the tension in the room. "Boys. It's fine." I gave Emmett a polite look and waved him away. Did he think I was going to lunge at Cullen and rip his head off or something? Well, wait. Yeah, I could understand how my brother might think I was capable of that. "Hi, Cullen," I spoke slowly as I moved closer to him. He was wearing a knitted beanie, but I could see that all-too-familiar messy mop of hair peaking out in spots. It took all my strength not to palm his thickly-bearded cheek and pull him close. I'd never seen him with so much facial hair. As teenagers, I remember him and Jasper having a beard-growing contest and them both failing miserablyonly being able to produce splotchy patches of peach-fuzz at best. At that moment, all i wanted was to feel his scruff against my neck. "Swan..." He looked stunned, saying my name slowly, as if no one told him I'd be there. I'd been pretty sure I was going to have a visceral response if our reunion ever did come one day, but the emotional reaction I was also feeling was shocking. Unsteady on my own feet, I felt as if my heart was going to beat right through my chest, cracking open my bones, breaking through flesh and bursting out in a horror film-like fashion. It would still beat on the floor; the muscle exhausted and trying to keep up.
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"Good to see you," I said in a strained voice, my legs turning to jelly. The formality seemed odd, forced, and out-of-place, but it was all my body could muster. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to act; I was secretly trying to gauge his reaction. Was I supposed to hug him? God, I wanted to hug him. I wanted him to hold me and never, ever, let me go again. He looked more attractive than I rememberedthat glint in his eye was still there, but there was something different about him. He had a more confident, sexy air surrounding him. His posture was straighter, his vibe oozing charm. This boy that I'd loved had become a man, there was no doubting. A strapping, handsome man. I must have sucked in my breath a bit too loudly because he stepped closer and asked me if I was alright. "Yeah...of course," I tried to be indifferent, with a stupid shrug, when inside I was dying. He came closer to me and started to lean into me, practically teasing me with the possibility of a kiss hello. Please touch me, Cullen. Please touch me, my body begged him. I was desperate to feel his arms take me in and hold me, even if it were for a moment. I wanted more than a moment, but I only needed a moment to make a memory. All I wanted was new memories to erase the bad ones we shared. Could we reset our shared history? Was that even possible after so much time? "Boys, I hate to break up this little high school reunion, but we need to go," some guy said who was standing behind Edward. He looked vaguely familiar, but no one offered to introduce him. I chalked him up to being some record company goon sent to keep them on schedule. "Fuuuuuck," he grunted under his breath, stepping back from the hug he was about to give me. "We have to go to this thing..." Edward rolled his eyes towards the record company goon. I could tell he did not want to walk away. There were words there waitingor kisses, maybe?right there on the tip of his tongue. "It's alright," I started to say, nervously running my hand through my hair. "I've got a thing, too. I'm doing press all day for 'Two Seater'." See, I'm as busy as you. I didn't come back just for you. Uh, but maybe I did. "We'll see you later, Isabella," Jasper said, walking past me and grabbing Edward
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by the crook of his arm. Edward just stared at menot breaking eye contact for a momentas the boys literally pulled him out the door, away from me. He looked like he had seen a ghost. Maybe he had? I certainly was not the same Isabella Swan I was all those years ago. That was a stupid teenage girl hopelessly in love with a boy who had no idea what he wanted. That was, until the day he decided he didn't want me anymore. Then, he had never been more sure of anything in his life. Teenager Isabella died that day. The girlno, the womanwho stood before him was who had emerged from that warm California day. I was sure he had changed, too. The biggest outward change was that he had become, along with my brother, an ultra-famous rock star. And, somehow, it suited him perfectly. Special thanks to Kay and Max who helped me whip this story, that had been sitting on my laptop for a year, back into shape! Big hugs all around. They'll be another update within 48 hours, put us on alert. xx

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Chapter 2

CH. 2 Let Me In I spent the rest of the afternoon in a press junket for 'Two Seater', answering the same inane questions 500 times. Was I going to be in any more of my dad's movies? Probably not making anymore movies with Charlie, no. Having my dad direct me in a love scene was by far the most creeptastic thing I'd ever done. Why did I come back to the U.S. after all these years? It was time; I'd missed my familyalthough I loved France and how great the cinematic community has been to me there. Did I think the Oscar buzz was true? Who knows, I would shrug. I honestly didn't think about it as much as the press wished I did. Everyone around memy agent, my publicist Jessica, and all the restwere almost obsessed with the Oscar idea. It was a media goldmine in their eyes. Daughter of one of the most successful film directors of our time earns her own Oscar? Add to it that she 'disappeared' to Europe for ten years, appearing in mostly French-language films? The story got all the better. On top of that, my brother was in one of the biggest selling rock acts to come around in years? It was like a press wet dream. ...and I was right in the middle of it. Lucky me. I didn't like attentionwhich is ironic when you're an actressbut honestly, I never did like being the center of attention. That was much more Emmett's territory. Fame was something that was always a part of our lives because of our parents, but I never understood it. I never understood complete strangers being interested in our lives or wanting my mother's autograph. What did those people do with those random slips of paper with her scrawl on it? I got back to the cabin around 11 p.m. to find it quiet and empty. Disappointment and relief swept over me at once as I went to the kitchen to make some tea. I figured the boys were not coming back until much later and maybe, oh please Jesus, I would not have to face him again today. I wasn't sure how much more my heart could handle. The unsure expression on his handsome face as he was leaving had cut me to my very core. I never meant to ambush him. I don't know what the hell Emmett was thinkingor, obviously, was not thinking. It was pretty obvious he had no idea I was going to be there. Sitting on the enormously fluffy duvet covering my bed, I pulled out my schedule for the next day. My publicist, Jessica Stanley, had me on a 6 a.m. flight to New
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York to do even more press. I was new to this whole 'media tour' thing; I couldn't believe how exhausting it was to talk about yourself, endlessly, day after day. It felt ridiculous. But, I wouldn't let myself have second thoughts on my choices. This was my new chapter. I needed to move forward and this was a means to do that. "Oscar noms don't happen by magic, Isabella," I could hear my publicist in my ear, constantly. I looked around my bedroom, and it struck me how long it had been since I'd been here, on this bed, in this robe, just drinking tea. It felt foreign and oddly comfortable all at the same time. But, that was the way most of my life had felt. I seemed to have floated through my most of my life. I existed, in a way, but I didn't live a real life. The second something real happened, it was ripped away. I longed for stability and normalcy, but even my reference of normalI did grow up in Beverly Hills as the daughter of Charlie Swan, after allwas not entirely normal. The text message sound on my phone beeped, and I just assumed it was Emmett since I'd only had the phone a few daysno one actually had the number. I looked at my iPhone and saw an unusual 310 number. I want to see you, Swan. Cullen. My heart started palpitating again so hard I could physically feel it. That had not happened in years. About ten years, to be exact. I used to get the same pumped up feeling when we were ... C'mon...I won't bite. I could not take my eyes off the screen. Oh, that is the problem, Cullen...you do bite. And I love it. As I stood there staring at the iPhone screen, I started thinking about his neck. I remembered one night, downstairs in this very house during a holiday dinner, turning to look at him while he was telling everyone some story about us being on the ski lift that day. I couldn't take my eyes off of that delicious expanse of flesh between his hairline and the top of his shirt collar, along the side of his neck, behind his ear. I wanted to push my mouth against it and delight in his taste and aroma. I did not need the nourishment of mere mortals. I only needed him. Jesus, Bella, get a grip. I'm already in bed I typed quickly, trying to shake off the thoughts of his muscular, pale neck. I'm not going back out tonight.
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A ping came back instantly. Let me in. I was confused for a bit until I saw the stream of light coming from the hallway under my bedroom door. Was he standing out in the hallway? I shuffled my feet and bit my lip unsure of what to do. I felt sixteen all over again, like he had snuck into my house without my dad knowing. Another ping came a second later. Let. Me. In. I opened the door, not even thinking about how I was dressed - in an old pair of Em's flannel pants and a threadbare Van Halen concert t-shirt I found in the closet. Edward was standing there looking like a lost puppyjust confused, lonely and seeking warmth. I'd never seen such misery and confusion on his face, and I had known this man our whole lives. I'd seen him at his best and absolute worst. But, this particular expression I'd never seen on his face. I was, for once, completely unsure of how to read him. The stretch of time that had passed between usten long yearswent by in the blink of an eye, but none-the-less it was ten years. Over three thousand days, in fact, not that I counted each one of them or anything. I had lived each of those days, without him, I'd continued to love him each day. It hadn't occurred to me that we'd changed as people during that time, but of course we each did. We'd matured and had experiencesreal life changesbut without each other. How can one feel so connected to another soul yet wonder if they really truly know them at all, after so long? We stood there wordless for what felt like an eternity; I stepped backwards not sure what to do or say. I searched his eyes for an answer. His eyes widened, and he said, "God, how is it possible that you're more beautiful than I remember?" His tone was laced with a flood of memories. I could not take my eyes off his lipsplump, pink and moist lips with a hint of a smile formed at the corners. "You too." I sighed, trying not to blush. "Did I say that out loud?" he asked. He shook his head, embarrassed for a millisecond and then in a flash, his cold hands were immediately on my waist. His fingertips dipped slightly into the waistband of my pajama pants, gripping my hips and pulling me close to him, very forceful. I suddenly felt his familiar erection harden against me as he pressed into my hipbone. I was amazed that I still excited him.
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I looked up at him; he was so close that I could finally take in his scent. He smelled exactly the same as the last time we'd been together which flooded my brain with olfactory memories. He always smelled like a perfect combination of natural cotton and warm sweat. That hot, primal, powerful smell that instinctively made me crazy with desire. I placed my right hand on the back of his elbow, finding the skin there was as soft as ever. He always did have the softest skin of anyone I'd ever met. My fingertips traced small circles on his elbow while looking up at him, unsure what to do next or where this was headed. My heart was in my dry throat. We looked into each other's eyes, smiling and bringing our lips closer. Each of us breathy in anticipation of a kiss. Everything just melted away. All my worries and apprehensions went out the window. This, that moment right then, no matter what the past was between us, was right. In his arms, feeling his desire against me, with his lips, hopefully, about to touch mine. It was the new memory I needed to make. "Please," I whispered as his lips were merely millimeters from mine. He always did like to tease and make me wait as long as possible for the first kiss of the day. It was a silly game we used to play as kids. But we were not kids anymore, and all I wanted in the world at that moment was those pillowy lips to press against mine. His eyes cast down to my lips and the twinkle in his eyes... it was like they were smiling. Was he remembering all the terrific kisses of years past? The endless hours of make-out sessions on the beach? He blinked and raised his gaze as if to say, "I'm going to kiss you now". "Isabella, have you seen" Emmett crashed into my room, the way brothers dowith no regard for what may be happening in said room. Neither Edward nor I flinched from our tightening embrace. "Jesus, Edward! She's back in the country twelve hours and you're molesting her already?" he joked, clearly unsurprised at finding us in each others' arms. "He's in here!" Em leaned out of my bedroom door into the hallway, yelling at Jasper. "Let's motorwe're going to be late for this gig!" I heard Jasper yell back. Edward sighed and kissed me quicklyall too quicklyon the forehead. That one second of contact was not enough, and I knew he saw the disappointment in my eyes. I withdrew my hand from his elbow, running it down his forearm to his wrist. He was wearing what had become his trademark black leather cuff. I gripped it tightly and let out a small, happy sigh. He nodded affirmatively at me, understanding the small gesture and kissed my forehead again, but for a moment longer this time, I could feel his smile as he kissed me.
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"WE HAVE TO MOTOR, CULLEN!" Jasper yelled from outside the door. "I've worn it everyday," he whispered, leaning into my ear. I could feel his hot breath and beard scruff on my ear. "I'll be back later. We need to finish this talk." Talk? I don't know how we could possibility talk at a moment like this. There shouldn't be any talking, there should only be making out. But, as usual, I was getting ahead of myself. Old habits die hard. "I'm leaving at the crack of dawn for a flight to New York, but I'll just see you in L.A. next week," I quickly realized I need to get back control of what was swirling around uslust and uncertainty, a train about to run off the rails. He let out a small moan, barely audible, and turned to walk out of the room. Before crossing through the doorway, he turned back and winked at me over his shoulder. I'm sure his chest was heaving the way mine wassuch a simple, quick, interaction and we were both really worked up. I could hear Jasper, Edward and Emmett talking loudly, as drunk boys do, as they went down the hallway. "Jasper, buddy, we've got to work on your timing!" They all laughed as the front door slammed shut, and I crawled back into bed. As my alarm clock went off at 4 a.m., I had this strange feeling I was not alonethen I realized there was a hand holding mine. I opened my eyes to find a shirtless Edward in my bed, and indeed, his fingers were interlaced with mine, our palms together in the holy palmer's kiss. The contact of skin-on-skin with him sent a warm rush through my veins. I rolled on my side and kissed him on his bare chest as I'd done countless mornings before. Normally, he would react quickly by pulling me on top of him, peppering me with hot passionate kisses. This morning? Nothing. He was stone cold, passed out drunk. I pressed my cheek against his chest and looked down at the edge of the sheet that was just at his navel. I wondered if he was wearing boxers or naked? I felt oddly reticent about peeking. Sure, I'd seen himall of himmany times before, but this seemed out of bounds. I didn't even know how or when he crawled into my bed. He obviously had not tried to wake me. He just held my hand and went to sleep. Curiosity got the better of me, and I lifted the sheet gingerly. I bit my lower lip at the gorgeous display under the sheet. That was definitely all man under that sheet. The last time I'd seen him we'd been teenagers. It never occurred to me until that moment that his body would age past seventeen. His body was all filled out in the right placesso beautiful, distractingly so, that I wanted to spend days locked in that bedroom, inspecting every inch of skin and muscle. I was so tempted to touch himto feel his beauty in my handsbut I knew I could not. I had a plane to catch. Never mind the fact that he was not mine anymore and I was not his.
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He was still out cold as I was about to leave for the airport, and I looked around quickly for something, anything, to leave him. I pulled out one of the monogrammed note cards I had in the desk drawer. Under the embossed gold swan I wrote: You were sleeping like an angel, didn't dare wake you. See you in L.A. - Swan. I left the ivory card on my pillow for him to find when he woke up before kissing his forehead slowly. He let out a little happy sigh in his sleep. I had forgotten he used to do that. My heart started racing, again. I couldn't believe the affect he still had on me. After so much time...and pain. But I did not expect this. I did not expect this to feel like home. His fingers interlaced with mine as we slept; that felt like home. The only home I'd ever truly known. The only home I ever wanted to live in. Right there with him. Cullen and Swan against the world. Next chapter in 24-48 hours. What do you think will happen next?...

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Chapter 3

A/N at the end. Warning: this is a super-short chapter. The next chapter will be posted Wednesday night. It's over 2000 words... EPOV Fucking corporate gigs. I did not want to do the Sundance Film Festival in the first place, but our manager Mike Newton insisted. He kept saying phrases like: 'Easy money' and 'Lots of chicks'. The next thing I knew we were all on a private plane going to do a bunch of corporate gigs during Sundance. If these stupid corporations want to host house parties in the name of PR and pay us $150,000 to show up, why the fuck not? Newton was right, it was easy money. And yes, there were usually lots of chicks. But, to be honest, I was starting to tire of just 'chicks'. I had the best chick in the world, but I let her slip away. Scratch that - I pushed her away. I was the jackass who walked away, callously, claiming I didn't love her anymore. I'd spent the past ten years trying to fill the void of her not being at my side with an endless parade of one-night stands with groupies and short, albeit hot, affairs with starlets. I got the shock of my life, literally, earlier that day when Isabella Swan, the girl I'd left all those years ago, was standing there in Em's living room. I'd heard that her film was screening at the festival, and there were whispers that she was scheduled to be at some screenings, but I'd pushed to the back of my mind any thoughts of running into her. That just seemed impossible. I never in my wildest dreams expected to see her standing there in all her beautiful fucking glory. I had more than a few beers during our after-party gig at some producers house that night. I was so rattled by the few, short minutes we'd had alone I could barely remember the lyrics to my own songs. So I got drunk and basically led a sing-a-long of my own music. It was ridiculous. Feelings I thought I'd suppressed forever came rushing back as I pressed myself up against her. I heard her breath catch as she felt my erection pressing into her, and I knew it turned her on. I was tempted for a moment to drop to my knees and confess my never-ending love to her. That girl always could turn me into a complete pussy. She was perfecta pile of puppies, a warm bath, and a beautiful summer day all rolled into one package. She was everything right and divine in the world. All I wanted to do was hold her forever and worship her. How could I have ever walked away?

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Hi, I'm Edward Cullen, yesterday I was a bad-ass, heart-breaking rock star. Today? I'm an absolute fucking pussy. When I had woken up in her bed the next morning, I'd momentarily wondered how I got there. I had spent many years waking up in strange beds, never quite sure who was lying next to me. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I remembered stumbling in drunk, stripping off my clothes, and sliding under the covers next to her. It felt so natural. Next to my dear, sweet sleeping Swan. I wanted to hold her, to feel her skin against mine, but she was such a sleeping beauty (and I was so drunk) that I just took her hand and promptly passed out. When I woke and remembered where I was, I noticed a card on her pillow. You were sleeping like an angel, did not dare wake you. See you in L.A. - Swan. Oh, how I wished she would have dared. If she would have, she would have never made that plane, I'll tell you that much. When we got back to L.A., I found every excuse in the world to stay at Em's house for all hours of the day and night, hoping Bella would drop by or call. On the fourth day, over a Captain Crunch dinner, Emmett told me he was starting to worry about me. "Don't be such a pussy, dude," he said, looking at me seriously. "There's a lot of shit between you two," he continued, "...and I really do not want to get caught in the middle of your drama." "That girl, man, she's going to be the end of me," I said, putting down my spoon. "Well, isn't that the issue? She was the end of you once. Look how that turned out." A/N - interesting reviews so far. I'm thinking those of you who called Bella "a pushover" and Edward "a douche" have flounced, so bye-bye. Everyone else thanks for sticking with me. This story is layered and complicated, so all the answers aren't going to be right at the surface. Bella had her heartbroken at 17 by the love of her life and her best friend - someone she never, ever suspected could hurt her. The only way she could deal with the pain was to disappear. Her return and his reaction to her validates the 17-year-old girl deep within her who never could accept that Edward stopped loving her. It'll all be explained soon...in detail...but she is FAR from a pushover and he's no douche (he might have been an idiot, at 17, but he's no douche). They were two kids in love. Haven't you ever had one of those all consuming I-can't-get-over-you loves? That's what these two have,
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but it's so complicated and painful - will they be able to get through it? Will they make it through Awards Season? ... Only time will tell. Super big hugs to you all. xx, louisa.

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Chapter 4

EPOV I hated award show events more than those fucking corporate gigs. Seriously, I was starting to make excuses why I could not go to the Grammy Awards, and our manager, Mike, was all over me. "Newton, c'mon. That shit is a bore," I whined like the pussy I was. "What has gotten into you, dude? You used to love award shows. Tons of easy chicks," Mike replied. "You're going." Apparently, I was going. I kept checking my iPhone every two bloody seconds to see if maybe she had texted me, but nothing each time. Mocked by a blank screen, I sat back in my seat and huffed to myself like a petulant child. Even I knew my pouting was stupid, but I couldn't help myself. The power she had over me was crazy, unexpected and inexplicable. "Presenting the award for Best Rock Song is actress Isabella Swan," the announcer said. Wait, what did he just say? I leaned over to Jasper and asked him if he knew about this, that she was apparently presenting our category. She hadn't walked the red carpet, or we would have seen her. She wasn't announced when they rambled off all the presenters names at the beginning - her being there was a total surprise. She must have swept past all the media like some kind of ninja. "Um. No." Jasper flashed a look at Emmett. "Don't look at me, you know that girl does what she wants, when she wants," Emmett said, shaking his head in shock. She began to read the song titles and band names. She made my heart skip a beat when she said ours, deliberately and slowly: "...and finally, "Up Against A Wall" by Masen. Songwriters Edward Cullen, Jasper Cullen and Emmett Swan." She flashed a giant smile and leaned closer into the mic. "Emmy's my little brother," she gushed
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proudly. She was only two minutes older than him, but she would forever refer to him as her 'little brother'; it drove him nuts. The audience loved her; she was this captivating and funny girl, the daughter of cinematic royalty, who had gone off to Paris and become a famous French actress by accident. She was also just days away from potentially getting her first Oscar nomination, and her current movie was the hit of Sundance. That publicist of hers must have been in overdrive; I swear she was on the cover of every magazine at the newsstands. Along with that, I saw her every two seconds, being interviewed on TV, telling that same story about how disturbing it was for her dad to direct her in love scenes. "Um, a little creeptastic," she would wince when asked about the experience. Isabella stood on stage, glowing in a sparkly silver slip of a dress, twirling the envelope as the videos of each song played. I could not take my eyes away from the tiny sliver of side-boob that was peeking out from the side of her dress. Her breasts were small, but full and perky. Her skin was creamy, white and glowing. I needed to touch her desperately. "And the winner is..." she purposely gave a long dramatic pause and bit her bottom lip, and I knew right there we'd won, "...MASEN!" I think I bolted for the stage, hoping something would propel me toward her faster, if I only had super human speed. Jay and Em trailed behind me, high-fiving with other artists along the way. When I hit the stage, the awards chick tried to hand me the golden gramophone, but I just walked right past her and immediately towards my girl. "Cullen." I heard her voice through gritted teeth as if to say: what the fuck are you about to do? I could not help myself.I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her close to me just the way I had done the other night, pushing myself onto her. Then, I reached up and took her face in my hands, pausing for a moment, giving her time to respond. She sighed softly and licked her lips. That was all the approval I needed. There was clapping and audience noise in the background, but it was like we were the only two on stage together, having an intensely private moment. Somewhere in the distance, I heard Jay giving a speech. As I started to kiss her, my left hand slipped down and brushed against the side of her exposed breast. The skin-to-skin contact sent a jolt through me. I needed to get her offstage; I needed to get her alone. Immediately.
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Her lips were soft and her tongue hesitated a moment before slipping into my mouth. But then she gave into the kiss and moaned against my lips. I held her tighter, kissing her with a flood of desire coursing through my veins. Suddenly, in a flash, the music picked up, as did the applause around us. Our bubble burst as reality settled over the stage. Emmett slapped me on the shoulder. "Hey there, live sex show, get off the stage." Isabella was blushing adorably as I pulled away, taking her hand and leading her off the stage. My mind was spinning; my only thoughts were: I have to be alone with her right now. Right. Now. I needed to apologize and tell her how stupid I was. I needed her to know that I loved her; that I never stopped loving her. That I made the biggest mistake of my life on that beach. I needed to beg for forgiveness. Could she ever forgive me? There were people rushing around everywhere in the hallway just off stage. Em and Jay were talking about how the statue was lighter than expected, and teamsters were getting sets for the next production rolled into place. Meanwhile, Isabella and I just stood there looking at each other, in shock, unable to actually move. That kiss was one of the most intense we'd ever shared, and it was going to take a little bit to recover. No lie, I nearly came in my pants. "You do know I wrote that song for you," I finally managed to get out, leaning over to her. "That time when we were in Palm Springs ... do you remember?" "Isabella!" A voice came from down the hallway, and suddenly she looked around, lost. "There you are," the man behind the voice said, kissing her on the mouth and slipping his arm around her waist in a way too familiar fashion. There's a certain way a man touches a woman after they've slept together. He was touching her in that way. I wanted to beat the ever-loving shit out of him. "Swan?" I said, raising an eyebrow in his direction. He was so distracted by the sight of her in that dress, he didn't hear me. You almost couldn't blame himher in that dress was just breathtaking. He was an absolute quintessiential Hollywood douche-bag: Tom Ford suit, super short haircut with too much product in it, sunglasses, a beautiful girl in his arms, and his BlackBerry surgically attached to his hand. He just had to be an agent. He smelled like oneall expensive cologne and illegal cigars. I did not trust him on sight. What I could not figure out for a split second was why Isabellaa strong intelligent womanwould allow this douche to get all handsy with her. Something did not seem right. They just didn't look right together. He seemed to be a chickenhawk, and she was his prey.
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"I missed seeing your part, babe, sorry," he asked, pulling her closer to him planting a sloppy kiss on her face. Of course he called her "babe", that was so fucking Hollywood. "I was on the phone with the studio. How did you do?" If I were the Hulk, this would be about the time I would have turned green and my muscles burst through my shirt. "Great." She looked at me wide-eyed, while replying to him, a deer caught in the headlights. "I think it was great," she fumbled for the words. "My brother's band won...um...do you know Edward Cullen?" She made a motion to introduce us. "Yeah, of course, big fan," he said in his best agent voice. Douchey-agents always say "Big Fan, big fan" when they first meet you, even if they have no idea who you are. It's a reflex or something. As he shook my hand, he gave me a slight pat on my shoulder and all I could think was: "If this spineless motherfucker tries to man-hug me I'm going to sucker punch him and drop his scrawny Calvin Klein-boxer-brief-wearing-ass." "Edward...this is Jake Black," Isabella looked down at her feet, "...my boyfriend." Well, fuck me with a two by four, I certainly did not see that coming. A/N - *runs away and hides* love you all. especially those of you who don't flounce me straight away. i never said this journey was going to be easy. if anything, it just got a whole lot messier. Next update? Friday or Saturday. As always, I love to hear your feedback, theories, etc. (snarky remarks, not so much, but thanks. don't let the door hit you on the way out. lol.)

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Chapter 5

AWARDS SEASON BPOV "You know, I wrote that song for you," he confessed. "That time in Palm Springs, do you remember?" Palm Springs. How could I ever forget? I was standing in the kitchen of our vacation house with his sister, Alice, pouring glasses of champagne, when Edward grabbed my wrist and pulled me aside. "Quit being fucking Martha Stewart," he said, leading me outside without explanation. I turned to Alice and shrugged - she was chugging champagne out of the bottle. "Where are we going?" I asked, not quite caring. Anytime he pulled me away from social situations, something extraordinary happened in private. He could lead me anywhere, and I'd go willingly. He led me back to the side of the pool house, and his eyes darted around - trying to see if anyone noticed us slipping away from the party. We were out of sight, but not hidden by any means. He mischievously grinned at me, squeezing my wrist tighter. "Baby, I've been aching for you all night." He practically moaned as he pushed me against the exterior wall of the pool house. Without warning, his hand plunged into the waistband my jeans, catching me off guard. "Cullen!" I yelped. "Shall I stop?" He smiled at me as he pushed his hand deeper into my pants. "I knew you'd be wet," he whispered, pressing his cheek against mine. I let out a loud sigh as he continued to run his fingers down the full extent of my sex and then gently over my clit while he pushed me harder against the wall. He knew that was one of my biggest turn-ons. I loved to be pushed up against a wall while he took charge of the situation.

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Anytime we were in a room that had a lot of available wall space, say no couch or tables or anything in front of it, he would glance at me and then nod to the wall, knowing. This was great in private, not so much when you were at your parents' country club and he was nodding like a fool in the dining room at the back wall. "You aren't wearing panties, you dirty little thing," Edward said. I was not sure how he could speak, I could barely catch my breath. His left hand came up under my blouse and ran along my erect nipple before cupping my breast. I moaned again and looked deep into his dark eyes. "You're fucking incredible," I gasped. Without warning, two fingers suddenly plunged inside me, and I pressed my head into his shoulder, trying to steady myself. I was so turned on that I knew I was going to orgasm quickly. That boy had magic fingers. "You're a dirty girl, aren't you?" Edward said in a low voice. My legs started to give out underneath me; they felt like jelly. He was going to have to hold me upright or I was going to collapse on the concrete right there. "I want you inside of me," I whimpered. "I am inside of you, baby." His lips returned to mine and his pace quickened, his smooth thumb moving over my clit. The boy knew exactly how to get me off. He had me tuned as well as his beloved guitars. My breath grew more and more ragged as my orgasm approached, and I clenched down on his hand in release. "I can't wait to taste you," Edward moaned, pulling his hand out of my pants. "Not so fast," I said, grabbing his hand and licking each finger one by one, never breaking his gaze. "God, you're so fucking hot," he gasped, diving back onto my mouth with his tongue. Yeah, I remember Palm Springs. Is it hot in here? "Isabella!" Was that Jake? Fuck. I forgot Jake was here. "There you are," he said, kissing my cheek and looking at my cleavage. Hello, up
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here buddy. Edward looked like he was going to clock him. He raised an eyebrow, questioning me quickly and quietly, "Swan?" Jake didn't hear him, he was too busy focusing on my breasts. "I missed seeing your part, babe, sorry. I was on the phone with the studio. How did you do?" he asked, really only half-interested since he was still looking at his BlackBerry screen. He was always on that damn phone. Jake was an agent, not my agent thank goodness, but a hard-ass, ball-busting agent. He was always on that phone, 24/7. He probably had it in his will that he wanted to be buried with his BlackBerry. "Great, I think it was great. My brother's band won...um...do you know Edward Cullen?" I stammered, turning back to Edward. "-Edward...This is Jake Black," I felt oddly guilty about the next words out of my mouth, "...my boyfriend." Edward's eyes widened in shock, and his expression turned into one of sheer horror. The confusion and instant pain that swept across his face was heartbreaking...for both of us. How was this happening? He'd crushed my soul when he'd broken up with me, how were these feelings slipping back so easily? How could it be that everything felt exactly the way it did then - well, when I say "then", I mean the day before the soul crushing occurred. The days where we were in love and happy and oblivious to anything bad in the world because we were seventeen and had each other and that was enough. "Guys, we need to get you to the press line. This way..." A press girl stepped up, literally in the nick of time. Edward, Jay and Em were pulled away down the long corridor towards the press room. Jake was rambling, but I wasn't actually listening. I just kept mouthing "I'm sorry" over and over to Edward. I was so confused - why did I feel the need to apologize to him? Why did I feel like I was cheating on him? On us? A/N Short chapter to kick off the weekend. I hope to have another update by Sunday. Cos you know what's up next? ...Jake hears about what happened on stage. How do you think that's gonna go? Reviews, theories, love notes all welcome. xx
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p.s. super big kudos to Kay my beta and Max my pre-reader. you two are the best. luv you.

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Chapter 6

BPOV "Isabella, what's wrong with you," Jake asked. He reached over and touched my cheek. "You look like you've seen a ghost." I kept hearing Edward's voice in my ear: "That time in Palm Springs ... do you remember?" "Isabella? Hello?" Jake repeated. "Sorry." I realized I'd been spacing out entirely. "Oh yeah, I'm fine." I shrugged. One of his frat-like agent buddies came bounding down the hallway towards us. "Jacob Black, your woman put on quite a show out there!" They started shaking hands and man-hugging. Oh God, I'm going to be sick to my stomach, I thought. "Was she good?" he asked, proudly, pulling me close to him. "She was nervous, weren't you babe? I told you that you'd kill 'em!" "You didn't see it?" The guy was a bit too excited, and his excitement had me feeling guiltier and sicker by the moment. "-It was nothing," I started to lie, "we did a little skit, that's all." "It was great - so subtle - that man whore mocked himself without even saying a word!" He started to raise his voice. There were bands, media and industry people milling around us, and I was really uncomfortable. "He practically ran onto the stage and planted one on her. He kissed her right through his band's acceptance speech - right through the music trying to play them off stage! It was hilarious." Jake darted his eyes between me and this jerk. I wasn't sure if he was gauging my reaction or waiting for more of the first-hand account of the kiss. "It was stupid. They wanted us to do something funny and Cull-" I looked off wondering where he was, and was he thinking of me? Was he as confused as I was at that moment? "-Edward thought it would be funny if we kissed."

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"You didn't tell me they asked you to do a skit. You said you just had to announce a category," Jake said. "It came up last minute." I hated to lie, but I did it. I was not a liar; liars lied to cover up something. I didn't have anything to cover up. Well, maybe my guilt. The guilt was messing with my head. I was guilty over a kiss that I did not start. Sure, yes, okay I did actively participate and enjoy said kiss, but I didn't start it. I was overwhelmed. I mean, he pounced on me without warning - all sexy charm and delicious lips. What was I suppose to do? Push him away and act like a shocked, frigid idiot? No, I couldn't do that. I went along. And damn, if it wasn't one of the best kisses of my life. It reminded me of our first kiss, because it was like no kisses had come before it, yet it was so familiar and right. It was the type of kiss that melts your brain, and I was literally standing there feeling fuzzy. Was this what being on drugs was like? Maybe I was high? I was high, buzzing, from Edward's kiss. Wait. I had a boyfriend. Jake. What the hell is happening? I shouldn't have been surprised. I came back to face my demons, right? Right. So I was facing them...and, whoops, locking lips with them, too. "But, you didn't even go to rehearsals, did you?" Jake asked. He was holding me in his arms, but slowly released me from his embrace. I didn't want to make a scene with all these people around, and honestly, at that point, I wasn't even sure how it looked on TV. It could have just looked like a fake soap opera kiss. "It was really dumb. I don't know why I let them talk me into it," I was mumbling, not even speaking clearly. "I'm actually not feeling so hot, so I think I'm going to just go home." "Really? What about the after parties? They are going to be epic!" He sounded like a 20-year-old frat boy. It made my skin crawl. It was like when we went through customs and entered the States he turned into another person. "Yeah, Isabella, you have to come with us to the after parties!" his agent friend said.
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"I just want to go home and sleep it off. You guys go have fun." I kissed Jake on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" In the car ride home, I put on Tapestry by Carole King. It was my mother's favorite album. Whether she was happy or depressed, Tapestry was the soundtrack to her life. "You're So Far Away" came on. Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore? It would be so fine to see your face at my door Doesn't help to know that you're just time away Long ago I reached for you, and there you stood Holding you again could only do me good How I wish I could, but you're so far away One more song about moving along the highway Can't say much of anything that's new If I could only work this life out my way I'd rather spend it being close to you But you're so far away Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore? It would be so fine to see your face at my door Doesn't help to know you're so far away Yeah, you're so far away Once I was in my apartment, I stood in my foyer and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like a nice, normal girl. I didn't look like a fucked up mess, yet I was. The girl in the mirror looked back at me, expressionless, when I asked out loud: "What the fuck are we going to do now?" A/N Update later tonight, you ask? Okay. Let's. xx
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Chapter 7

BPOV My publicist, Jessica Stanley, spent a solid hour trying to avoid the subject. Over salads at The Grill in Beverly Hills, she danced around it magically, as we talked about everything except what was exactly on the tips of our tongues. "Just be ready, because as soon as the nominations come out-" she paused and looked around the room as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping on us. "Isabella, what the hell is going on with you two?" she whisper-yelled. I choked a bit on my lemonade and raised my eyes up to meet her gaze. "What are you talking about?" "The elephant in the room, jackass." She smiled politely, making sure not to raise her voice. I loved Jessica like a sister. She was hard as nails yet soft as a feather at times. We'd been friends since we first met in junior high, what now felt like a million years ago. She had managed my PR for the past five years, and I trusted her with my life. "I'm not sure what you mean, Jess." I was trying to act dumb. I genuinely did not want to talk about it, because I didn't know what to say. My heart was aching, and I'd been fighting off a migraine since the kiss on stage because I was so confused. That dizzying, electric kiss. "Your ex-boyfriend planted one of the most intimate and passionate kisses I've ever seen on you last night," I had to admit, the excitement in her voice was kind of adorable, "ON LIVE TV!" I took a deep breath and thought about how I was supposed to react. But, even in my own mind, I could not come up with an answer. These were the facts: I had a boyfriend who loved me, and I had an ex-boyfriend whom I never stopped loving. There was no right answer. Hell, there were no answers. "Say something," Jessica pleaded, her eyes darting back and forth scanning the room, trying to notice if anyone was paying attention to us. Her behavior reminded me of something in an 1950s buddy-film or something. She was always a little bit over-the-top, but it was part of her charm.
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"I'm screwed, Jess," I told her. "I didn't expect this. Hell, I don't know what I expected, but I didn't expect this." She put her hand on top of mine and looked me dead in the eye. "You better figure it out and quick. Otherwise, if this blows up publicly, we're going to have a mess on our hands." I gulped and nodded. Her expert advice was always spot on. I knew she undoubtedly always had my best interests at heart. "Speaking as your friend, Isabella," she started to say, "Jake is a bit of a douche." "Just a bit?" "I'm being polite," she smirked. We both couldn't stop laughing for the next five minutes. I was startled awake at 4:00 a.m. by aggressive knocking on my front door. I fumbled around for my robe and wondered why Emmett didn't just let himself in. It had been his apartment, so I was sure he still had a key. I was also sure he was probably drunk. Hopefully, it wasn't Jasper. I was sleepy, and the last thing I needed was to hear him banging some blonde groupie in the bedroom next to mine. "HOLD ON!" I yelled, tying the waistband of my robe tight. I opened the door to find none other than Edward Cullen standing there. Edward. Fucking. Cullen. "Hi," I said quietly like a guilty child. For the first time in ten years, we were alone together. Really alone. My heart was doing that uncontrollable-beating-out-of-my-chest thing again and my throat got really dry. "Hi," he said, his long fingers gripping the door frame. I'd forgotten how impressive his hands were, and I just kept staring at his lean fingers. Get a grip Isabella. "Hi," I said again, unsure of how to proceed. He made me nervous somehow, because his very presence made me question everything. The words I said to him on the beach that day, my running away to France, my relationship with Jake. Everything. It was all a big jumbled mess. My brain was in overdrive, yet I couldn't stop staring at his lips. His soft, pillowy, delicious lips. If I loved Jake, really loved him and I was over Edward, like I kept telling myself that I was, I wouldn't have been looking at those lips. Those lips.
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"You already said that." He started to smile. "Thanks for inviting me. Yes, I'd love to come in," he said, confidently striding past me and into the apartment. He smelled of whisky and cigarettes. His skinny jeans were hanging off his lithe frame his hair? In a universe of it's own. His confidence was so sexy. We stood there in the entryway for a long moment, neither one of us speaking. He took a deep breath and tilted his head to the side, smiling. I knew that smile. That smile was trouble, in the best possible way. Trouble like Palm Springs. "I really want to kiss you right now," he confessed. "I really want you to kiss me right now," I said with bated breath, not hesititating. My reply was so quick and honest, I sort of shocked myself when I heard it come from my own lips. The heart speaks faster than the brain sometimes. I wanted him to kiss me? Yes, because maybe that would stop the noise in my brain. I wanted just a moment of my life back, our lives, to prove to my seventeen year-old self that he had really loved me. Somehow, if he kissed me, it would validate that young girl deep within who never understood why her best friend - her lover - dumped her so callously that day so long ago. He moved toward me quickly, hands at my hips, walking me backwards. I knew exactly what he was doing, backing me up to the hallway wall. We smiled at each other, without exchanging words, until my back was flush with the wall. I licked my lips as he pushed his full weight against my body, pressing me against the plaster. His hands went from their tight grip on my hips up to brace himself, the flat of his palms on either side of my head on the wall. It was a position that was all too familiar to us. Some things just slip into place, puzzles pieces finding their way. Suddenly, his lips were on mine, roughly at first. The first contact was feverish and forceful until a little, uncontrollable moan came from the bottom of my throat. He pulled away and let out a small laugh. I forgot about that laugh; it was more of a chuckle really. When ever something funny caught him off-guard, this little chuckle would come out. That was, of course, before he'd break into his infectious, loud fits of laughter. "Oh yeah?" He grinned at me, wickedly. "Yeah." I sighed. I was embarrassed, yet somehow giddy because he wanted me. Feeling his desire, raw sexual desire, validated what I knew all along: his rejection of me on the beach that day was a mistake. I was, thankfully, older and wiser, and knew that a mistake could be forgiven over time, but never forgotten. I took his face in my hands and pulled his lips back to mine. Our kiss was slower then, more passionate. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and we fit perfectly back to where we used to be. I thought I'd blocked out what a phenomenal kisser he was,
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but there he was again, with his lips on mine. Our tongues danced as he continued to push his body onto me, melding us together as one. I started to pull his t-shirt over his head without taking my lips off his, which of course didn't work. I felt him smile onto my lips before kiss-talking, "Are you trying to undress me, Swansy?" "Maybe." I shrugged. EPOV "I was such an idiot," I told her, pulling away from a long kiss. Her eyes teared up instantly. "Shhh..." She put a finger over my lips. "Don't. Not now. Let us have," she interrupted herself mid-sentence by kissing me with a fierce passion, "-this. Just tonight. We can talk tomorrow." We had so much history and pain and crap between us, but the passion laying just under the surface was worthy of overriding all that for one night. I wanted to explain everything to her - and hear her side, too - but goddamn, she felt so good. To feel her in my arms again, to have to kissing me - she was so much more amazing than any girl I'd been with in all those years. All those years I spent trying to forget her. But how could I? She was my girl. My girl. I wasn't a religious man, but believe you me, I was already praying to God she'd get him to forgive me when she came out of this lust-haze. I was also thanking him for the lust-haze, no lie. A/N Okay, NOW y'all can call her a pushover. KIDDING. These two have a way to go an a BIG talk coming - but, who can blame a girl for not being able to resist Rockerward's kisses? I mean REALLY, who's with me? As always, love to hear your theories on our lovely couple...and, yes, Jake will be back soon. Feel free to hate on him.

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Chapter 8

BPOV I heard the front door open and looked at Edward, confused. I shrugged as if to say, "I dunno." We'd been in bed, rolling around, for hours. The sun came up, but we'd barely noticed. We were lost, exploring each others bodies and making up for lost time. There wasn't a lot of talking, and that was okay - for now. "Sissy? Are you home?" a voice called. Emmett. "In here, Emmy!" I yelled back, scrambling for my robe. My brother did not need to see me naked as a jaybird in bed with his best friend. Em appeared at the my bedroom door while Edward and I were still getting ourselves together. "Of course," he announced loud enough for the neighbors to hear, throwing his hands up in the air. "I should have known. Neither one of you were answering your phones. You'd think I could put two and two together." "Hey guys!" Alice appeared in the doorway next to him. "Alice!" I jumped up to hug her. "I'm so sorry I haven't been over to the house yet. I just got back into town," I said, looking back at Edward. She kissed me on the cheek and pulled me in for a tight hug. "No worries, you'll come to game night right?" she asked, looking over my shoulder to Edward. "Um, Miss Swan, were you just fucking my brother?" she asked, pointing at her shirtless brother. "Dude. C'mon," Emmett raised his voice, "in my apartment?" "It's my apartment now, Emmy," I corrected him, turning back to Edward, "-and for the record we did not have sex." Alice had no boundaries, ever, she pulled me down on the bed to sit between her
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and Edward. Edward, her older brother, looking dangerously, gloriously sexy in a wrinkled t-shirt and wild bed-hair. Yum. How can ten years go by and suddenly you're exactly where you were a full decade ago, listening to your brother being grossed out about the idea of you sleeping with his buddy? I was so happy to be sitting there with my brother, one of my oldest friends in the world and Edward. It was like time stood still and we were teenagers again. I wished I could bottle those times forever... the times before things got really complicated. "OKAY!" Emmett yelled. "I don't need to hear the details - fucking or not." Edward quickly shot back, "I'm sure you've fuck my sister ten ways to Sunday, Em." "Point taken." Emmett conceded. Alice leaned forward and hugged me again. "Okay, glad you're back. Glad to see this..." She waved a finger between myself and her brother. "Listening to you cry for ten years, and then him cry for ten years," she paused, her mind obviously replaying certain conversations in her head. "Ugh! I'm just so happy to see you two all glowy." Glowy? I was "glowy"? Really? She got up and headed for the door, grabbing Emmett's hand to lead him out. "Back to it, kids." She smiled at us, sweetly. "You have a lot of time to make up for; we're getting out of your way. Oh!...And congratulations!" "Yeah! Congrats, Isabella! Call Dad!" Emmett yelled as he was walking out of the apartment. Call Dad to tell him I'm naked in bed with the boy who broke my heart ten years ago? Um, no thanks. I'm not ready for that quite yet. Not until we actually talk and figure out what the hell happened and what the hell is going on. Because right then, I was so overwhelmed with the glow Alice referred to, I didn't know which way was up. EPOV "You cried to her for ten years?" I asked her, shocked. She was the one who left for good - left the goddamn country - so I always thought she was over it. Alice would not tell me about her conversations with Isabella, ever.
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Believe me, I asked. Repeatedly for years. Then, I gave up. Outwardly, at least. "I can't-" she stopped herself before kissing my forehead and continuing. "We need to talk about what happened. But, I can't right now...just thinking about it..." I saw a tear in her eye, which I could tell she was trying holding back. I knew Isabella better than she knew herself sometimes, and I could tell the emotions sloshing around scared her to death. I bet she suppressed everything for a long time; avoidance always was her way of dealing. But, with me and our intimacy laid right out in front of her, it was hard to avoid. Once the floodgate of her emotions opened up fully, there would be no going back. Were either of us ready for that? "Just the mere thought takes me back to that day...and I can't let myself go there. It destroyed a part of me. A part I've worked really fucking hard to regain myself, Edward." She only called me by my first name when she meant business; tears came slowly rolling down her cheeks. I swept the tears away with my index finger, lightly. She had this one freckle under her left eye that I always loved. Not nearly as much as the small freckle on the back of her right knee, but this one was pretty sexy, too. I loved that freckle. Jesus, man, stop being a pussy. "It kills me that I hurt you," I told her earnestly. Seeing the pain on her face, and hearing her voice tremble was a like a dagger to my heart. A clean kill. "I know," she whispered, her voice wavering. "But you did kill a part of me and I can't..." she stopped speaking abruptly. "We don't have to do this now." I wanted her to be ready on her terms, because while I wanted to hear her side, I needed to also be really sure she was ready to hear my side. I was ready to finally tell her everything. It devastated me how I'd hurt her. What a fucking prick. If the 17-year-old me appeared in front of me right now I'd beat the living shit out of him. "Right now, let me have this..." she said, wrapping her hand around my leather-cuffed wrist. "Just what is in this room right now. Everything else can wait." Her eyes begged me. It was the same she'd asked of me a few hours earlier when I showed up at her door. I gave her a lingering kiss and could taste the salt of her tears on her lips. The pain I'd caused her right there in my mouth, a visceral reminder.
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"Okay," I kissed her on the temple. "I'm going to get some water. You want a bottle?" I asked, getting up to break the tension. She nodded yes, so I headed out to the kitchen. A few minutes later, I heard the front door unlock, and without turning around, I yelled, "Emmett, go home!" "Edward?" a man's voice replied. I spun around and saw agent-douchebag-of-the-year, Jake Black, standing there all suited up and doing his best Ari Gold imitation. "Can you put some lemon slices in my glass?" Isabella asked, sticking her head out of the bedroom, her robe falling open and instantly showing a little too much skin. Her voice trailed off at the sight of Jake. The three of us were frozen in a Mexican stand off for a moment. "Isabella?" Jake started to raise his voice. "You want to tell me what the fuck is going on here?" A/N: ah, jake. what timing you have. unfortunately, the next update won't be probably until Monday. should we start taking bets on if a fist fight breaks out or not? as always, love to hear your feedback...theories...rockerward love...jakehate...etc etc. xx

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Chapter 9

EPOV "Isabella?" Jake started to raise his voice, which surprised her I could tell. Her eyes widened liked a frightened child. "You want to tell me what the fuck is going on here?" She bit her upper lip, walking over to stand at my side. His name hadn't been mentioned all night or this morning, I was just realizing. Whoops. "Lui as-tu baise?" Jake asked in French. Ah, so that's how she hooked up with this tool. In France. I knew he was an agent - a pansy-ass French-speaking agent. She stood next to me, silent as I slipped my arm around her waist. He yelled again, "LUI AS-TU BAISE?" I could feel her tremble next to me as she whispered under her breath, "I'm not that girl. I'm not that girl." She wasn't that girl. She wasn't the girl who cheated on boyfriends or purposely used sex to hurt people. She was humiliated and ashamed; I could see it on her face. I was responsible for this. AGAIN. I put her in pain, again. I felt like I'd been stabbed through the heart just watching her squirm in pain at the words he was hurling at her, which, thankfully, I could not understand. "Dude, c'mon," I muttered, just trying to get him to shut up. "DUDE? DUDE!" he yelled, getting closer to me. "Don't 'DUDE' me, asshole." He turned to Isabella and started screaming at her in French again. "Tu es une PUTAIN!" I didn't understand what he was saying, but her face went pale and she growled with an intensity I'd never heard from her before, "Don't you dare call me a WHORE." Wait a motherfucking minute.

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He called her a whore? I couldn't take this anymore. No USC-frat-boy-turned-agent was going to call my girl a whore. I lunged at him, knocking him to the floor with one sucker punch to the face. I either broke his nose or a few teeth, because I heard a snapping sound and my knuckles were bleeding. "Edward!" Isabella yelled. She rushed to Jake, trying to help him get up. "Just leave," she said, opening the front door, her robe falling open slightly. "Putain!" he bellowed, at the sight of her nakedness. Just as he turned to step out into the hallway, he looked her in the eye and as he spit some blood from his mouth onto the white carpet said, "Oh, congrats on the Oscar nom." I slammed the door shut on his face. We looked at each other, shaking our heads, trying to figure out what just happened. I pulled her close for a hug and could feel her trembling in my arms. My hand was throbbing, but I didn't care. My only thought was of protecting her. She kept saying, "I'm not that girl, I'm not that girl." I smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead, wanting to take away her pain. Let's recap: her boyfriend just caught us together and surely thought we'd spent all night having sex - which we hadn't - he called her a whore, I punched him out, and in the middle of all that, she got an Oscar nomination? In a soft whisper she said, "I think I was just nominated for an Oscar?" Slipping out of my embrace, she went over to the kitchen counter to look at her cell phone. "Twenty-five voicemails," she said, shocked. Wow, we must have been in the bedroom a long time, I thought. I went to the freezer to find some ice for my hand as she called her dad from her cell. "DAD! Hi! I just heard," she gushed into the phone. "Yeah, that would be great, sure." She winked at me. "Edward and I will meet you at 8." She was listening to his reply. "Yes, Dad. Everything is fine." She winked at me
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again, such a simple, sexy gesture. I was so smitten with her already. Again. "We'll see you then. Love you, mean it," she said ending their conversation. "Charlie's proud of you?" I asked. "He's taking us to dinner at BLS," she told me, excitedly. "I'm hungry now," I said, opening the fridge. "Me, too." She let out a small giggle. "Famished actually. Let's order some food." "No, I'll make you some eggs," I started to take out eggs, milk, and some cheese. "You learned to cook? Wow, I have been gone a long time," she started to joke before realizing it wasn't a joke. She had been gone a long time. There was a lot we didn't know about each other anymore. That didn't even seem possible, how could I not know every tiny thing about this girl? She was my oldest friend, my best friend, the love of my life. Yet, we had this huge gap in our history - in our shared lives. We had so much to catch up on...a third of our young lives. "How did you meet him?" I asked, tentatively. We were going to have to broach the subject at some pointwhy not now? She took a deep breath. "A few years ago, in the U.K. He was working at CAA London, and we had some mutual friends. He became a good friend..." She pushed away her empty plate. She'd put away a three-egg omelet and hash browns. Watching her eat was refreshing - all the models and tramps I'd been dining with lately didn't eat a thing. They drank vodka like it was water and pushed the salad around their plates claiming they were full. "He gave me great advice, and I trusted him. We shouldn't have ever gone past friendship, but it slipped into something comfortable and then he got transferred to L.A..." she trailed off as if to check with me if I wanted to hear more. "...I just didn't break it off, but I should have. I know that. It's just that I felt like I owed him everything. Jake was the one who pushed to get me on "Harness". He knew it would be my breakout role," she said about the role that just landed her an Oscar nomination. "He really was one of my best friends, and to hear him call me 'putain', Cullen, I can't even translate that word properly, it's so disgusting. 'Whore' is the tame translation." Her voice got quieter.
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"It's always only been you." She looked at me, reaching over and stroking my beard. "Always." "We need to talk about what happened." I told her. "Not yet. Tell me about I've missed," she tried to change the subject. "Tell me about the band and your travels," she offered. She wasn't ready yet for the talk we needed to have. I knew she would tell me when she was ready, so I had to respect her (and her fears) for now. BPOV "Miss Swan, congratulations! Your father's party is upstairs, if you'll follow me," the Maitre'd said. I looked at Edward and raised an eyebrow. Party? This was supposed to be a quiet dinner with my dad. When did it turn into a party? Edward took my hand and interlaced his fingers with mine to calm me as we walked into the private dining room to find my father sitting there with a table full of people. It took me a minute to register all the faces as everyone jumped up at the sight of us and started applauding our arrival. "Congrats!" "Isabella!" "We're so happy for you!" A hand pulled me away, and I felt Edward's fingers let go of mine as his mother, Esme, brought me in close for a hug. "I'm so proud of you sweetheart," she whispered in my ear, "for everything." I felt myself about to tear up when her husband, the impossibly handsome Dr. Cullen, cut in,"Don't hog her, Esme! Give me a hug, darling." Dr. Cullen and Esme were always like a second set of parents to me, especially since Renee had passed away when I was so young. Esme had been my mother's best friend. She threw girly birthday parties for me, talked to me about the birds and bees, and even helped me pick out my prom dress. She was the closest thing to a mom I'd ever had. She'd come to see me twice while I was in France. The first time, when I'd been there about two years, we spent four days wandering the streets, shopping for antiques. She collected vintage apothecary items and other assorted oddities. She never mentioned Edward's name out loud, at least, once during that visit, but she, in her own way, tried to make me understand he knew the
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mistakes he had madeI'd just refused to hear it. During her second visit, she came to Cannes, just three years ago, and walked the red carpet with me during the premiere of "Voulu". Dr. Cullen? Handsome, charming Dr. Cullen? I swear I'd had a crush on that man since I was in diapers, so it was no surprise I should fall in love with his oldest son. He was the preeminent plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills, which meant he knew every one's secrets. Alice and I used to call him 'Dr. Secret' when we were teenagers. It drove him crazy. You know how people always say to look at your lover's parents to see how they'll look in 30 years? Well, if Edward ages like Dr. Cullen has, I'd be a very, very happy woman. Dr. Cullen has never aged. He looks the same now as he did ten years ago. Not a day older, he was still handsome as ever. That man either has the secret to the fountain of youth or a deal with the devil. Maybe both. "ISABELLA!" Jasper exclaimed, spinning me around. He came at me with an enormous bear hug and cheek kisses. "You're going to win an Oscar, Swan!" he gushed. I took a deep breath, watching all these people around me as Edward came and put his arm around my shoulder. "Our girl is now an Oscar nominee!" he purred, before kissing my forehead. A waiter was passing out flutes of champagne, and my father clinked his glass to get every one's attention. "A toast to my Isabella," he started to say and everyone stopped chit-chatting. "To those of us who know you, Isabella, it comes as no surprise that you would excel at whatever you set out to do. Your mother would be so proud of you right now," his voice trembled for a moment. "Your talents know no bounds, and I'm proud to be your father,"everyone aww'd at the same time"and to see your peers nominate you for this award shows me that they see how amazing your talents are as well. I know this is only the beginning of a very long career. Your rate is going to go up about $5 mil per picture, so I'm signing you on to my next three films first thing in the morning." Everyone laughed. "Dad, you'll have to call my people," I quipped, nodding toward Jessica who was sitting there with Mike Newton. Newton? Wait, why was Newton sitting next to Jessica? Then I realized he'd been the guy at our house in Park City, the record company
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goon who looked familiar. Newton, dorky never-get-a-hint Newton, was involved with my publicist? Then it hit me. Her firm was called Stanley & Newton. God, I was a self-absorbed, unobservant twit sometimes. So wrapped up in my own shit, I never realized that when she was constantly going on and on about 'Mike' she meant Mike Fucking Newton. Apparently that dork managed Masen. I tell you, this town was an interconnected cluster-fuck sometimes. It reminded me of a game we used to play when our parents would bring us to restaurants like this as teenagers. Alice was sneaking sips of champagne out of Esme's glass while she wasn't looking as Jasper and I passed a flask between us. We'd been dragged to another dinner honoring the mayor, the governor, oh who knew who it was exactlysomeone that Dr. Cullen gave a lot of money to. Alice smiled at me and nodded to the next table. I whipped around to see an older man, in his 80's. A George Burns type. Not exactly handsome, but old Hollywood. There was something dapper about him. "Related or fucking?" Alice asked. "Hmmm," I said, scratching my forehead. "My favorite game!" Emmett said, when he realized what we were doing. Next thing I know he's slapping down a $20 bill on the table. "I'm in!" Edward said, putting down a fifty. "Who are we talking about, girls?" he asked, glancing around the room. "That guy?" he said, motioning behind me. "Shhh, Cullen. Subtle." I shook my head at him. "Put your money down, Swan." he smiled. I put a $20 bill down. Then we each gave our answersAlice: Fucking, Me: Related. All the boys said: Fucking. They always said Fucking. "No way!" Jasper said. "They are so fucking. Look at her jewelry, Swan. Fuck-ING, I'm telling you." I didn't even get a chance to reply, when I saw Alice, out of the corner of my eye, fake drop an earring, pick it up, and lean into the old man. "I think your wife dropped this, sir," she said, in a super sticky-sweet and
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innocent voice. "Did she just say 'wife', Grandpa?" the girl asked. The boys at our table went into hysterics, and Esme was all flustered at the sudden outburst. "Kids, settled down!" Esme looked at Jasper who, she knew, was usually the instigator in our trouble-making. "Swan wins again!" Edward said, pushing the bills towards me. Related or Fucking? The best game ever. Always easy money. As dinner was being served, I was pretty overcome with all the love at the tableCharlie, Esme, Dr. Cullen, Jasper, Emmett, Alice, Mike and Jessicaall there in complete support and happy for me. I'd missed this in France, even though I wouldn't admit it to myself at the time, but these simple dinners with everyone I loved meant the world to me. There was always lots of laughter and many, many bottles of wine, which would lead to more laughter and crazy times. How could I have ever walked away from so much love? "What's wrong?" Edward asked, as he leaned over to me. I tilted my head toward him, "I just can't believe I ever walked away from all this," I replied, biting my lip softly. EPOV I leaned in closer to speak softly, "Enjoy tonight, okay? Don't beat yourself up over France. I've been trying not to beat myself up all day over-" she stopped me by putting her hand over my mouth. She let out a long sigh before speaking, "I'm sure your mind is spinning, because I know mine is..." she looked lost for a moment, unsure of her own thoughts. "I'm so grateful for you showing up on my door and what we shared today." "Me, too," I tried to reassure her. "Today was amazing." "I'm trying to enjoy this dinner and tonight with you, because I know," she stopped speaking and kissed me tenderly. "I know tomorrow we're going to have to face each other, for real, and hash it out." We nodded at each other, in understanding. We wouldn't let ourselves worry anymore that evening, we'd just enjoy each other's company. Because, after that
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talk the next day, everything could change. Again. Maybe we could recover from this, but maybe we couldn't. Maybe all those years were too many. The maybes swirled around the room. I understood how it was almost too much to face. It rocked me to my core, the thought of having to explain myself to her. But, she deserved it. She deserved to know the truth; the real truth - what I had never told anyone. BPOV "Just smile because they are going to want pictures," Jessica said, right before we exited the restaurant. What is she talking about? Flashbulbs popped over and over; I was suddenly blinded as we stepped out onto the sidewalk. Why on earth are the paparazzi "Edward! Edward! Over here," I heard a voice yell. "Isabella, are the pregnancy rumors true?" another one asked. I did a double take to the guy who said that. While we had been naked pretty much since the moment he showed up at my door at 4:00 a.m., we hadn't actually had sex. And who tipped them off that we were even there at the restaurant? "Isabella! When is the wedding..." another photographer yelled. Wedding? Wedding? What the hell is happening. Edward grabbed my hand and rather calmly and confidently grunted at them, "Guys. Give it a rest," and pulled me into our awaiting SUV. A/N - an update a day early! Woo! But, with the good comes the bad (news that is) - next chapter will be a few days. We're looking at over 4000 words of The. Talk. that's with pre-reader and beta now. We may have some heavy editing ahead, but I think y'all get some of the answers you've been looking for. Question of the day is: do you think this the last we'll see of Jake? As always, love to hear your feedback. Y'all rock.

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Chapter 10

A/N - Y'all. Sit down. This update is 4,855 words. Longest to date. As always, love to hear your feedback, theories, jake-hate (oh, he's not gone yet), etc. Big hugs to Kay and Max who keep this little story on track. Love you all. xx BPOV When I woke up, it took me a minute to get my barrings. The past twenty-four hours had felt like a dream. There was no way that Edward was in my bed...that I'd really come back to the U.S. after all? Had I been that brave after so long? Then I felt his strong arms around me and his lips on my forehead. "Morning, sleepy head," he kidded me. I snuggled closer and smiled into his chest. It wasn't a dream. I was in his arms after sleeping better than I had in years. After we'd had dinner with my dad to celebrate the Oscar nomination...after...oh, crap. Jake walking in on us wasn't a dream. Jake. My relationship with Jake hadn't been perfect, but we had been good. We'd been good friends that morphed into more when it shouldn't have, but I let it happen. Then, I let it continue. Why? Well, I trusted him; professionally, he always gave me great advice and understood everything I was going through. Personally? He was a great textbook boyfriend. He remembered little things and sent flowers and opened doors and made plans. He played the role of boyfriend well. I think my casting was just a bit off. I let out a long sigh and smooshed my face into Edward's bare chest. I wanted to stay there forever. "We've gotta have the talk, Isabella," he whispered. I didn't even know how long it'd been since I'd heard him say my first name. It shot a jolt of reality through to the marrow of my bones. "I know." I knew it and he was right, but a part of me - the scared girl deep inside - wanted to hide in bed forever, laying in his arms, ignoring the past and just enjoying the now.

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"But, we shouldn't do it naked," he announced. "I'm scared," I admitted, my voice trembling. "Me, too," he replied. "I need to tell you something first," I said, looking up at him. "Anything." His face was sweet and open. I didn't realize exactly how much I missed seeing him first thing in the morning; it was such a beautiful sight. "I just want you to know," I brushed my fingertips along his scruffy jawline, "how happy I am we had these twenty-four hours together. No matter what happens after right now, I have no regrets. None." I nodded my head affirmatively, and he did the same in return. "I want you to know that. I'm so happy I got to share yesterday with you. It was one of the best days of my life." His eyes were warm, and as he tightened his embrace around me, his fingertips ran up and down my forearm. "Yesterday was amazing," he practically gushed. "No regrets." I started to cry. The floodgates of emotions were starting to open, and I wasn't going to be able to stop them. He let me sob into his chest without saying a word. "Thank you," I finally eeked out. "For what?" he asked, surprised I was thanking him. "For letting me cry. All my other boyfriends always tried to stop me. 'It'll be alright' or 'Don't cry, Isabella.' You just let me cry. You always have; sometimes a girl just needs to cry," I said through the tears. "It's so weird to hear you talk about other boyfriends," he admitted. "It's not like there was an ever-ending parade of them." I rolled my eyes at him. His reputation for womanizing had been press-fodder for years. "But, I did have boyfriends. I tried to move on with my life...it seemed that you had," I paused for a second. "But, yeah, it's strange to talk about boyfriends with you of all people." "I know you're scared. That's okay. If you need to cry a bit more, I'll hold you. But, only for a few minutes," he nodded. "Ten minutes of crying maximum, and then we get out of bed and figure out what's happening here." I liked when he took control. This was the perfect time. Ten minutes, that's all I needed. I hitched my leg over his waist, pressing myself as close to him as possible,
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and sobbed. I cried over the love that was lost, the years along the way, and everything we'd missed. EPOV "I made you some tea," I said putting the a mug of her favorite breakfast blend with honey and lemon, two cubed sugars on the side. The sugar cubes weren't for the tea, she liked to crunch on those. She smiled at me sweetly, sitting there looking adorable in the AC/DC t-shirt I had on last night and a pair old yoga pants. Her face was pale, and her eyes were red from crying. I could tell how hard this was on her already. I was trying to bottle my concern to be strong for her, but inside I was just as scared as she was, maybe more. I rubbed her knee for a moment, trying to calm her. "I'm going to go first, okay?" I asked. "Please." Her eyes drifted off, and I could sense she was replaying that dreaded day in her head. "I don't love you anymore," I said, not looking her in the eyes. The sun was setting over the Pacific, it was an otherwise perfect evening, until those words came out of my mouth. Once they were out, our entire world changed. I killed the only thing I ever really cared about - my relationship with her. "Quit kidding around, jackass." She giggled and punched me in the arm before running down the beach. "Come and get me!" she teased. I ran after her and tackled her to the ground. "Ouch!" She spit sand out of her mouth. "I'm not a football player there, buddy." "Listen to what I'm saying to you, Swan," I grunted through clenched teeth. She adjusted her bathing suit top and squared her gaze with mine. "I'm listening." She smirked. "I don't love you anymore. We're done." The teasing smile left her face, and she went pale - paler than I've ever seen. Shit just got real. "Excuse me?" she asked for clarification. The confusion in her eyes was
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heartbreaking. How could I do this to her? To us? I stood up, because I couldn't drag this out. Cut and run. "You heard me that time. I said I don't love you anymore. I'm breaking up with you." I shook out the sand from my leather cuff. I was tempted to take it off and give it back to her, but even I couldn't be that cruel. "You're crazy, of course you love me, baby. You've loved me since, well...forever." She scrambled to get up and got right in my face. I shook my head at her, like she was wrong. "I don't know what the hell has come over you, but you've lost your ever-loving mind." Her brain was starting to process what I was telling her, and her hurt was growing into anger. "I don't love you anymore," I repeated, because if I repeated it maybe it would become true. It wasn't true - not even close. "You're a LIAR." She threw her words at me like daggers. "I don't love you anymore," I repeated. "LIAR!" She raised her voice. Her face started to turn red, and I could tell she was considering giving me a black eye. "I'm leaving," I announced, turning away from her. I could hear her voice, louder and louder, even as I walked farther and farther down the beach away from her. "Liar! LIAR!" Finally her yelling stopped, and I turned to see her, fallen into a heap on the beach, sobbing. I hadn't seen her that way since the day her mother died. I remember watching as my mother and her father took her by the hand and led her down to the end of the hospital hallway with Emmett trailing behind. They only said a few words and a guttural scream came out of her little body before failing to the ground in a heap. Her reaction was the same that day on the beach utter, overwhelming grief. I stood there only a split second, because I knew if I stood there any longer, I'd go running back to her. "Listen to me," I started to say and then saw the terror in her eyes. "Bad choice of words." I corrected myself. "Sorry, I'm all twitchy and nervous," she admitted. "I'm going to tell you everything. You ask me anything you want. Cards on the
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table time." "Cards on the table," she agreed. "You were right," I started to tell her. "I was a liar. I freaked out. Of course I loved you. Of course." I looked over at her, the tears were still streaming from her eyes, but these were happy tears. "But, everything was spinning out of control." I went on to explain to her that as we approached high school graduation, everyone around us just kept talking about how we were going to get engaged. About how they expected us to get engaged. Don't get me wrong, it's not that I didn't want to marry her, it was just what everyone expected of us. They had our entire lives mapped out in front of us. It felt, as each day that passed before the 17 year-old me, that I wasn't getting a say in my life (or future) anymore. Everything was decided. I'd ask Isabella to marry me, we'd both attend UCLA, get a small apartment in Westwood, and live happily ever after. I wanted all that, but I wanted to steer my own ship to get there. I saw my life go from 17 to 45 in the blink of an eye; it felt like my youth was slipping away. Somehow, in my stupid 17 year-old brain, Isabella had become a ball and chain. I had convinced myself that our relationship was holding me back from having a life. I grew more and more uncertain about our future - one that everyone had planned out for us - and instead of being man enough to talk to her about everything...I jumped ship on the relationship. She would have been open to the discussion, but I was so freaked out by it all, I couldn't do it. I was just a boy. "You didn't feel like I was pressuring you to get engaged did you?" she asked, quietly. "No." "Because that wasn't even really on my radar, Cullen. I mean, I know everyone around us expected that, but I was happy the way things were," she tried to reassure me. We talked for a good two hours about that day, the day I made the stupidest mistake of my life. We each cried and laughed and, most importantly, listened to each other. "I was just so lonely without you," I told her, burying my face in my hands, the desperation in my voice evident. She was the only one I could ever be vulnerable in front of; it was like only with her was I myself - my whole self. She rubbed my back and pressed a soft kiss onto my shoulder.
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"So lonely," I said again, turning my head to look at her. Her eyes understood my words, and not only showed sympathy, but empathy towards what I was saying to her. She was the most empathic person I'd ever met. It was one of her best qualities. "Why did you leave town?" she asked. "I went home and told Esme what happened. Her reaction," he started to chuckle, nervously, "was pretty similar to yours. She didn't understand - hell, I didn't understand." He wrung his hands before continuing. "She told me I needed distance to figure out what was really going on in my head, and that I could go to my Uncle Anthony's for the rest of the summer if I wanted." "So you just left?" "Not exactly. I didn't agree to go, but when I got up the next morning, my bags were packed and there was a plane ticket on the hall table. They sent me away." BPOV We both took a deep breath at the same time. I never knew his leaving was Esme's idea. I wasn't sure how that set with me at that moment. All I remember was hearing a few days after the breakup was that he went to Hawaii. There were no details attached. "So I went to my Uncle's, and all I did was surf and smoke pot and play guitar. I didn't talk to anyone or deal with anything. I was in a haze for months," he said. "Me, too." "I can't believe what I did to you, Swansy. To us." His tone had him sounding ashamed of himself. "How is it that you can hurt the ones you love so much?" he asked, as if I had an answer to that question. "You need to hear about what happened when you left, Cullen." He face went serious, and he buried it in his hands again. "I know," he mumbled. "I've heard bits and pieces, but I haven't heard everything." "I'm going to tell you everything. Parts of it are really bad," I warned him. He leaned over and pulled me in for a tight hug. Now, he was the one sobbing. "Don't hold anything back," he requested. "I need to know everything." So I started at the beginning. The days following his departure were fuzzy - I remember getting into bed and practically not getting out for months.
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Literally, months. "I think I went into some kind of shock," I told him. I couldn't look him in the eyes. He just held me close and listened to my story. "Your sister...your sweet, amazing sister...she should be sainted, Edward." I remembered back to the days where she would visit, crawling into bed with me to tell me stories or sing songs or paint my nails. I was near comatose and wouldn't speak, but that didn't stop Alice. She was there, day after day, my lifeline to the outside world. Charlie didn't know what to do with me. He leaned on Esme, my mother's best friend, more than ever to play the role she promised my mother on her deathbed: Be the mother Charlie couldn't be. "It wasn't just that we broke up," I paused, because I knew what I was going to say next would really hurt him. "It was like you died. You were gone. I had to grieve you." "Oh God." He breathed out. The reality of hearing about what I went through was really getting to him. "I didn't know what to do with that. How could I ever let you go?" I asked him, hoping now he was the one who had the answer. "I grieved you, too," he finally said. "The worst part was, all I wanted in the world was talk to my best friend. That's what you do after a break-up, right?" "Yeah," I agreed. "Well, I couldn't talk to my best friend. You were my best friend, and I'd just hurt you more than anyone ever deserved to be hurt. I did a horrible thing." I continued to tell him about my bed-ridden months of hazy depression, worrying Charlie more and more each day that I'd never come out of it. That somehow, he'd lost his only daughter forever. "Things came to a head about three months after the breakup. Charlie and Esme were outside my bedroom, and I could hear them arguing." I paused, checking to make sure he wanted to hear more. To hear the part no one had ever told him about until now. "Go on." "This is the part you don't know about..." I trailed off. I knew already that he felt horrible about what happened, but knowing what really happened in those missing
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months could make him feel worse. If that was possible. "So they were arguing, and I heard them say 'We need to get her out of the house.' and something weird snapped." I gulped. "What?" He asked, tentatively. "I started saying 'outside, outside'. See, I hadn't really spoken in about three months. They were so shocked to hear me speak, they came running into the room." "But, that's a good thing, right? You were coming out of it?" "I was actually slipping further away." I stood up and started to walk towards the balcony; ironically, I was the one who needed air now. "Don't walk away," Edward practically begged, grabbing my hand. He spun me around and searched my eyes for information. "Tell me what happened." "I kept repeating 'outside, outside'," I told him, biting my lip. "For hours." "Hours?" he asked, not quite understanding what I was telling him. "Three hours to be exact. That's when they decided to take me to Ojai." "Ojai?" He was confused. Why would they take her to Ojai? I could tell he was asking himself internally, until the realization hit him. "They took you to the nut house?" He was shocked. "It's a residential hospital, not a nut house. And...it saved my life." I walked to the edge of the balcony and looked over to Sunset Blvd. below, with fancy, shiny cars sitting in traffic. "Come here," he reached for me again. He held me for a long time, and now I was the one crying again. I'm not sure how long we stood out on that balcony, but it felt like forever. "I stayed there for a long time." I broke from his embrace finally. "I got a lot of therapy. Therapy I really needed. Not just because of what happened with you, by the way." I was hoping that would make him feel a bit better. He wasn't the only one responsible for my state of mind. "I was teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown the day they took me in. I was lucky..." "Jesus, I can't believe this. I did this to you." He sounded so angry at himself.
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"No. It wasn't just you. I told you, it wasn't just you. I hadn't properly processed a lot of the grief over losing my mother. Something snapped when you broke up with me, and everything I'd pushed down just..." I trailed off. "I can't believe I wasn't there for you." He sounded ashamed of himself for letting me down. "I really thought I was okay when they released me. I felt like I was back to my old self. But, once I was home for a few days...Cullen, you were everywhere. In every corner of my house, every inch, there were memories of you." "Is that why you left the country?" he asked. "I'd worked so hard while at Ojai to regain myself, I couldn't lose it again. So I asked Dad if I could stay in our Paris apartment for awhile." "Awhile?" "I didn't expect to stay so long," I told him. That was the truth. I thought I'd be there six months and return home. "I think ten years is longer then 'awhile'." He let out a small laugh. "I just needed to escape everything. I needed to figure out who I was without you. I needed to grow up." My whole life I'd been Charlie Swan's daughter and then Edward Cullen's girlfriend. I had no idea, deep down, who Isabella Swan was on her own two feet. "So you ran away to Paris?" The way he said it made me realize how ridiculous it was. I was this overly-privileged kid with far too much money and time on her hands, and my way to sooth a broken heart? Run away to Paris? Most teenagers would go on eating or shopping binges, revenge-dating or do a myriad of stupid things. Not me. I went to Paris to move into a 3,000 square foot apartment right off of the Champs Elysee. Ridiculous. "So you left around the time that I came back from Hawaii?" Edward realized. "Yeah, I think we missed each other by a few days." "A few days? Our lives could have been so different if I'd just come back a few days earlier," he mused. "Well, why didn't you come after me?" I started to raise my voice. I wanted, deep
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down, a grand romantic gesture like you see in movies. I wanted him to follow me halfway around the world and tell me he was wrong. I wanted the fairytale ending. I wanted my reality to be some kind of Hugh Grant romantic comedy. But, instead, I was faced with reality. "I wanted to, but no one would tell me where you were!" He yelled. I pulled him back into the condo and shut the sliding doors. "Did you ask?" I felt like I was accusing him of not caring at that point, but I had no proof that he did. "Of course I asked. Are you fucking kidding me?" "Esme wouldn't tell you?" I asked. "Esme said she didn't know. It took me a few years to figure it out." I looked over at the portrait hanging above the fireplace. It was an Andy Warhol of my mother done in the mid-eighties. "She wouldn't have let this fuckery have gone on for so long," I announced. We both laughed. He started to tell me he figured my leaving meant that I was over him, that I wanted a fresh start. So, he started dating girls ("Boring, vapid girls.") to keep his mind off me, and then the band started to take off. "Everything happened so fast with the band that I literally didn't have time to think for a few years." "I started to have a life I really came to love in France. It was as if my life here was so far away," I remembered. "Then I started seeing you in all those tabloids with model after model strutting around town. I just accepted that we were teenage lovers and nothing more." "We'll always be something more," he quickly corrected me. It was always amazing how quickly he could reassure me of things. His words were such a comfort. "But, I did finally come for you, did you know that?" "What are you talking about?" He never came to France, did he? "I had a gift for you - this was about five years ago - and I didn't tell anyone," he smiled at me. "I just got on a plane and went."
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I sat down, shocked by this revelation. He took my hand and interlaced his fingers into mine. "I went to your apartment building. You weren't there, but there was an old lady out front-" "Madame DuBois?" I offered. He spoke to Madame DuBois? She was the neighborhood busy-body and knower of every one's secrets. "I guess. I didn't get her name. I asked her, through some really horrible broken French, if she knew you. She told me on Thursday afternoons you went to the Pompidou Center." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. He came after me? Five years ago?... "So I went to the Pompidou Center, and I sat outside. I figured, I'd wait there until you came out," he said. "Then, you finally came out...I'd waited for a few hours," he admitted. "You looked," he sighed, "stunning." I think I blushed. I couldn't believe he came to France after all that time and I never knew. "You came out, your hair was shining in the afternoon sun, and it was really long, longer than I'd ever seen it. You were wearing a blue striped t-shirt and white jeans. You looked incredible like how I remember your mother looking - really chic." "Did you just say 'chic'?" I mocked him. He laughed before continuing. "I waved at you, and you waved back with a big smile. Or, at least for the happiest split second of my life, I thought you waved at me." "I never saw you." "Then you ran into the arms of this guy," he snarled. "This French-looking motherfucker." "Wait," I was racking my brain. "This was about five years ago?" I asked. "Yeah," he replied. "You did that thing - you hugged him and when he kissed you, you raised your foot." What the hell was he talking about? "What? My foot?" I asked. "When we were about ten, I asked your mother how you know when a girl loves you," he admitted.
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"You didn't." I giggled. I could just picture him asking my mother that. I wished I had that moment in time saved into a bottle - or at least on film. It must have been adorable. "I did. She said, 'A girl is crazy-nuts-in love with you if she raises her foot and bends her knee when you kiss her.'," he told me, absentmindedly playing with the ring on my right hand ring finger - my mother's engagement ring I'd worn since I was 16. I looked back over at the portrait of my mother. That sounded so much like something she would say. "So when I saw you kiss him like that, I knew I was too late," he whispered. "Too fucking late. I got the first plane back and never told anyone." "I can't believe this!" It finally came to me. He saw me with Paul. Paul, my acting coach. Paul, gayer than those contestants on RuPaul's Drag Race. He thought I had a thing with Paul? "That was Paul you idiot! Paul likes BOYS!" I started to raise my voice, because I was getting angry. "We lost five fucking years because you thought I was with PAUL!" "But, you raised your foot," he offered. "And, after that, I was certain it was really done. There was no way I was ever getting you back. I started going out with every girl who gave me a passing glance. I had no shame." "I know. I saw the papers, your exploits were plastered everywhere." I reminded him. He hung his head. "Internally, I was trying to fill a void. Externally, I was trying to live up to this rocker reputation I had earned but didn't want. It was an ugly, vicious cycle." I suddenly felt really sad for him. He'd been doing what he loved for so long making music - but he was basically living a lie. "You know what's really weird?" he asked me, seriously. "What?" "I barely remember anything through all those years - every thing is a blur; making music, affairs with those girls, traveling the world-" he looked off wistfully, searching for memories that weren't there. "But with you?" His smile grew wide. "With you, I remember every second we ever spent together. Every conversation, every shared secret glance, every moment."
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It might have been the sweetest thing he'd ever said to me. EPOV "I'm so sorry," I finally said, placing a lingering kiss on her rosy cheek. "I know you hate the word 'sorry', but really, from the depths of my soul, I'm sorry. If I could go back, I'd change everything." "I wouldn't," she replied, quickly. Okay, that caught me off guard. But then again, this was Isabella we were talking about. Nothing about her was expected or ordinary. "What?" I asked, I needed to explain what she meant. "What happened was horrible, but if it didn't happened, we wouldn't be right where we are today." She took my hand and squeezed it under hers. "I like the woman I've become, I like the man you've become. Who knows what we would be like if this hadn't been our path." She was amazing. She could make her hippy-California-mumbo-jumbo sound brilliant at times. We'd made some stupid mistakes, both of us. But, we were starting to clear the air between us. I'd never been so honest with a woman in my life. Because she was the only woman I wanted in my life. a/n #2 - i just wanna give rockerward a hug, don't you?

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Chapter 11

a/n - As always big, super tight I-couldn't-do-this-without-you hugs to Max and Jennifer (and you Kendra! love you!) Speaking of pre-readers. You, over there, yeah you...interested in becoming a pre-reader? I like to have a variety because it really is a team effort. So. If you're interested, send me a PM and we'll chat...or if you're on ye olde twitter, hit me up: ladauphinefic. BPOV Morning hours of talking drifted into afternoon and before we knew it, dusk had fallen over the city. Hours were spent reconnecting - sharing the years that had gone between us unshared. "There were so many times I wished you were there to share things with, you have no idea," he told me, wistfully. It was odd to hear him so defeated. He was always the strongest, most energetic person I knew. But the reality of what was lost hit him hard. I tilted my head and frowned. I understood; there had be countless times were I'd stared at my mobile, fingering the keypad, itching to call him to tell him something. It's hard to give up your best friend. "Like when? Tell me what you would have shared. Tell me about it now," I urged. He was at the stove, putting on a fresh kettle. We'd just called out for Thai food and were ravished after forgetting to eat most of the day. "Hmmm," he pondered, pulling out assorted tea boxes from the cupboard. "I know!" he proclaimed after a momentary silence, something coming to mind like a lightning bolt. "The first time we heard "Gone" on the radio. Em and I were driving down Wilshire, by the high school, and it came on. We started screaming and he was honking the horn-" I couldn't help but giggle at him. I could imagine how excited they were - hearing their song on the radio for the first time. That's a big deal for anyone. I wished I could have been there with them. I should have been there with them. "But once we stopped screaming and started just listening, I looked into the backseat, half expecting to see you sitting there. Your presence was never gone. It was as if you were a ghost in some ways." He paused. "I talked to you a lot, " he
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confessed. "I talked to you a lot, too," I started to tell him. "But, it was mostly swearing and name calling." I was only half-joking and he knew it. I jumped up on the counter to sit. He pulled down fresh cups and placed in the tea bags. "I get that. You know, there were so many times I almost called you. I kept you number in my phone for years, even though I knew it was disconnected." He looked over at me, almost sheepishly, gauging my reaction. "I kept yours, too." I sighed. Our small secrets kept revealing themselves like the never-ending layers on an onion. You pull one back, and there's yet another. "I just liked to see your name on my phone. It reminded me that the ghost was a real person...that you were out there somewhere. Your name on the screen was tangible," he told me. I bet no one else knew he'd kept my number for so long. I wonder if his failed trip to Paris made him finally erase it. Erase me? I let out a long sigh. Jesus, we'd been such fools. If he'd come back earlier, or I'd come back earlier, maybe things would be different. Could have been different. "Would" is so definitive, I mean neither of us knew for sure how the future might have played out. "Could", on the other hand, is full of possibilities. It did feel, until that day on the beach, that our lives were full of possibilities. Just up until the second he dashed them all in one fell merciless swoop. Maybe they wouldn't be the same. I guess we'd never know. All we had were the stretch days in front of us to figure out this mess and see if we'd could make it to the other side together. I must have been quiet a long time when he asked me what I was thinking about. "Timing." I shrugged, shooching myself onto the counter, swinging my legs off the side mindlessly. "Yeah." He poured the boiling water over the lemon slice and two tea bags. "Timing is funny, isn't it?" In a instant, all the innocent flirting and bubbling lust from the day before came tothe surface. Yes, we'd spent the day having the most serious discussion of our lives, but we also spent the day exposing ourselves in the rawest way possible. Our mistakes and our shared past of love connected us together. Couple that with an attraction that never went away; well, you've got a lot of sexual tension swirling around.
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He approached me, slowly, deliberately, with a sexy smirk on his face. That smirk of confidence that was always swoonworthy yet unrelentingly frustrating. He stopped right in front of me, so close I swear I could hear his heart beating. The air was thickening with our mutual lust. Eyes locked each onto the other, pupils dilating with anticipation, his hands hovering over my thighs to touch me and just as he was about to part his lips to say something, the door bell rang. Internally, I'm running of a stream of curse words at the cockblocking door bell. A perfect moment in time, one where we'd both seemingly dropped all of thoughts and worries and shame at what we'd done to another, dashed with the press of a tiny button. My shoulders slouched down and I dropped my head, neck falling limp under the weight of disappointment. "Fuck." He grunted, annoyed. "Hold that thought." He pulled back his hands, and went to answer the door. I sat frozen, in a scene I thought may never happened in my lifetime. I'd finally known what happened all those years ago, and had a chance to explain my side. I'd listened and been listened to. My heart was not confused, but my head certainly was. Oh, my head. I'd always been so logical in my approach to everything. Truly, my father's daughter. If ever there was a chance to really embrace my inner-hippie and be my mother's daughter, this was my opportunity. Enjoy what's in front of you, I told myself. Returning to the States to face him let me prove to myself I was brave. That I was capable of being brave. But, exactly how brave could I truly be? When he came back, I hadn't moved a millimeter. A mischievous smile swept over his face as he approached me again, tossing the take out food in the sink without a glance. "I'm not hungry for that anymore," he practically growled at me. Oh, but there was still a hunger in his eyes. You could see it from a mile away. EPOV "So, we're done talking?" she asked, flirting with me. "I'm pretty sure we could use our combined energy for something else right now," I said, kissing her temple. She smelled so fresh, so intoxicating. I slowly spread her legs with the palms of my hands. For a moment, my body was tentative to touch hers. Because I knew this time there was no going back. I couldn't stop myself from touching her; hell, I never wanted to stop touching her. Ever. I could explore her skin forever. The softness of the paler skin that ran along the underside of her arms, the little hallow dip in the small of her back, the apex of her thighs where...
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Slow down there, buddy. You have all the time in the world with this girl. Don't rush it. "Is this okay?" I asked, my lips sliding over to her ear. "We can take it slow." She just nodded affirmatively as she put her arms around my neck and pulled me closer into her. I buried my face deep into her neck, my nose at her hairline. We each took a deep breath. I'd missed the tenderness with her. The small, important moments like these that were just ours. Something as small as a really great, quiet embrace that no one else could ever take from us. Her in my arms, feeling safe. That's all I ever wanted. "I'm nervous," she whispered into my bare shoulder, before kissing it super softly. "This isn't our first time, baby," I told her. I felt her shiver in my arms, it was her reaction to hearing me call her baby for the first time in years. It slipped out naturally, without hesitation. A term of endearment I only ever used on her. She reached for my wrist and delicately, tentatively, started to unsnap the leather cuff that had covered it for so long. Her eyes, suddenly shy and unsure, raised up to meet mine. They darted back and forth, looking for an answer. "Do you still have it?" she inquired almost in a worried whisper, the first snap opening between her fingers. Her eyelids blinked, awaiting my answer. "You think I could have erased you?" I asked, placing my fingers over hers to release the next snap. The idea of that, of erasing her, was clearly the craziest thing on earth, ever. Pure fucking insanity. Her eyes searched mine as she bit her lip and undid the last snap. We didn't break our gaze as she removed the cuff and dropped it on the counter. The clink of the metal snap on granite startled us both. Her concerned face turned to a sly smile as I raised my wrist up into her eye line to show her what she was searching for. She reached to run her fingertip over the small, gold swan tattooed on my inner wrist before kissing it softly, holding her lips to it for a beat. Did she think I could have had it lasered off? Erase her from my life completely? Never. "I never thought we'd get the chance-" I stopped her words with a slow, deliberate kiss on the mouth. She pulled me closer, wrapping her legs around me. God, I loved kissing her. I could make out with her for hours. Just make out. Her lips were the softest, most honest lips I'd ever touched. The emotion within her kisses gripped my soul. I held her tight, in a way to reassure her this was okay, as
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we continued to kiss, time evaporating in front of us. When I pulled away, she turned her head away shyly and a soft blush came to her cheeks. "Wow," she breathed out, surprise in her tone evident. "You can say that again," I kidded, slipping my fingers into the waistband of her yoga pants, pulling her closer to the edge of the counter. "Wow," she teased. The passion between us was as strong as ever. Sure, we'd spent hours before her Oscar nomination rolling around in bed together and that was amazing, don't get me wrong, but becoming intimate with her after the talk we'd had that day? It took everything we'd ever shared to an entirely new level. Part of me was glad we didn't let that raw lust the other night take over and just fuck like bunnies, because as much as I would have enjoyed that, things would have become even more complicated. I leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, holding my lips on her warm skin, before dropping to my knees in front of her. She lifted her ass off the counter just as I went to pull off her yoga pants. "What are you doing?" she asked with a sly nod, helping to wriggle out of her pants. I loved it when she was cheeky. She was the perfect girl: equal parts shy, cheeky, flirty and aggressive. And, when she was really aggressive? Watch out. The girl got what she wanted...how she wanted it. It was hot. "I'm going to go down on you," I replied, giving her a teasing bite on her bare thigh. I couldn't take it anymore, I just had to taste her again. I craved her. Not only to taste her, but I craved giving her pleasure, making her make all those little noises that only we shared. Making her wiggle and writhe and arch her back and barely get out through bated breath "stop, stop" when she was oh-so-close but wanted to delay her orgasm one second longer. Naturally, the second I would stop she'd fist my hair and say "Don't ever stop." I pressed my open mouth on her pussy and kissed it, strongly, passionately. She shuddered a little under my lips as my tongue slipped out and took one long slow lick. Delicate and delicious, she had the most beautiful pussy I'd ever seen. Trust me, I've seen a lot of them and they're not all pretty. In fact, some are down right frightening. Hers, though? Small and pink, it teased me to make it pulse with pleasure. I was happy to oblige. I buried my face between her thighs and leisurely swirled my tongue over her beauty. I held her thighs, my fingers spayed out as wide as possible, to keep her in place. She was a fan of the headlock, and I didn't want anything blocking my view at that moment.
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"Cullen..." she moaned as she fisted my hair. That was it. I had her where I wanted her. I reached up and slipped my hand under her t-shirt to touch her warm, soft breast as she moaned again, then kissing her up the delicate curve of her hip, her ribs. She pulled her shirt off and threw it across the kitchen. We both turned to watch it float to the ground. "Whoops." She giggled. There's my cheeky girl. My girl. I needed to make love to her properly, not just fuck her on a kitchen counter like I was about to if I didn't stop myself; that could wait for later. In one fluid motion, I picked her up and threw her, in all her naked glory, over my shoulder. The delighted squeal she let out told me she didn't mind. "Okay, let's go to the bedroom now." She laughed, before slapping my ass and mumbling the word "caveman". BPOV My mind was a blur of kissing and then his mouth, his mouth...on me, quickly, hotly, pleasuring me so feverishly I didn't even have time to process everything I was feeling. Then, in an instant, he picked me up and flung me over his shoulder like a pack of potatoes or something and started off towards the bedroom. It was the sexiest thing he'd done to me yet. When the boy knew what he wanted, it was full steam ahead. Lucky for me, what he wanted right now was to get me into bed. My entire body bounced off the mattress as he tossed me onto it. I climbed up on my elbows towards the tufted headboard, positioning three large pillows behind my back. "Come here." I slowly motioned to him with my finger. He took his time unbuttoning the button-fly on his jeans exposing that glorious faint trail of hair from his belly button to the holy land. I loved that trail of hair. I loved to lick it, rub my nose in it, kiss it. He let out a chuckle as he shucked his jeans casually to the floor, revealing a perfectly lickable deep V in his skinny yet toned frame. I knew he knew what I was thinking; he knew me too well sometimes. Of course, he was going commando under those jeans, bringing an even larger smile to my face. There he was, in all his beautiful glory, in front of me, exposed in so many more ways than one. He crawled into bed, on top of me, lowering his weight slowly, his eyes lustfully flirting with me. The hair from his thighs rubbing against my smooth thighs, muscle against muscle. As he slipped his forearm under my neck, a happy, contented sigh
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came from his lips. "This is a very good spot. I like this bed. I think we should spend a lot of time in this bed," he announced, patting the pillow with his free hand. I rolled my eyes, taunting him, and he raised an eyebrow in return. There's something so dangerously sexy about a man so confident, easily confident to his soul, in his sexuality. Edward was all man and there was no denying that. He was the type of man who was going to tell you he'd put your bed to good use and it wasn't just talk. My body, my mind, everything on fire with desire for him to touch me, explore me, take me to new heights. "I need you," he whispered into my neck, his lips kissing down to my breasts. His hand drifted from the small of my back down to cup my ass and pull me closer to his erection. I let out a loud moan that only seemed to excite Edward even more. "Fuckkkk..." he whimpered as he rubbed his desire against mine. "I've missed this." EPOV She moaned lowly as she nibbled on my collarbone. Her breath was then at my ear and she whispered, "I want to watch you," Hottest. Words. "touch yourself, baby." Ever. She had rarely ever shocked me, but hearing those eight simple words shot right through me. She kept nodding affirmatively, while biting her index finger knuckle. So sexy and adorable. I rolled off of her and sat up next to her, trying to share pillows for support. Who was I to deny the girl what she wanted? With my right hand, I stroked firmly, too firmly at first, and nearly came within ten seconds. Her hot breath was in my ear and I could hear and feel her excitement growing as she wiggled beside me. Since when did she like to watch? Man, my kitty has grown up into some kind of minx. She turned and leaned her body onto mine, her desire radiating off of her. Her breathing hitched for a moment as she became mesmerized by my actions. "Mmmmm," she murmured. "Like that." I slowed my pace and then ran my finger around the top, taking the pre-cum and pulling it down over my shaft. "Yesssss," she hummed, hitching her leg onto my thigh. I couldn't take it anymore, I needed her. To be inside of her. To feel her warmth enveloping me and taking me all in. I was about to bust a load just thinking about it. And, busting a load without seeing her glorious, dewy, foxy come face first? Not acceptable.
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Turning into her, I spread her gorgeous toned thighs and ran my dick along her sex. She gasped at the contact and I noticed her looking down between her own thighs wet and wanton. Slowly, I rubbed the head on her clit and then down circling to the delicate slippery skin where I wanted to be most. Inside. I heard her lick her lips before she said matter-of-factly, "Cullen. This isn't high school, don't cocktease me with just the tip." I raised my eyes up to meet hers as my hand reach down to guide myself into her. Could she be foxier? Holy hell, woman. If she started talking dirty I was definitely not going to last. And, how exactly, could she make "just the tip" sound so hot? Because she did. I pushed into her without breaking her gaze, "My least favorite game in the world: Just. The. Tip," I said, pushing into her deeper than I thought possible. When my cock was fully inside of her I pulled her closer; our warm, sweaty chests pressed against each other. I didn't think it was humanly possible for us to get any closer physically. Our bodies were locked together. Her long leg wrapped around me as I rolled her on to her back. I palmed her thighs, up and down, the sensation of her smoothness under my calloused hands - one of those things so fantastic that you've missed so much, but you don't realize exactly how much until you feel it again. A hot, desperate kiss followed, the salty tears long gone. I slowly started to move my hips in a circular motion, grinding into her instead of thrusting in and out. She moaned louder than she ever had and released our kiss to look me in the eye. My gyrations caught her off guard. If anything, I would always keep this girl on her sexual toes. No doubt. "What was that?" she shockingly breathed into my mouth. "Long and slow," I told her, continuing the hip circles; her face was becoming more flushed by the moment and her eyes grew wide. I could tell her brain was going into a sweet, sensual, sensory overload. Her lusty eyes became hazy with pleasure. I reached down and cupped her breast, running my thumb over her hard nipple. I loved to feel her reacting to me - the way her breathing would slowly, steadily become louder, her back would arch and contract, her hands would never stop roaming my skin, often reaching down and teasing my balls with her fingertips, the way small sounds would come from deep within her that even she didn't know were forming. She was able to completely give herself over to pleasure and ride it out. There was never any faking or performance with this girl. I could feel her contracting her muscles around me deep within her, and somehow, my erection continued to get harder with every motion inside her. After a few moments of swaying and grinding together, I started pulled my body weight off of her.
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"Cullen, noooo, I want to feel all of you on me," she protested, pulling me back down. I was worried about crushing this beautiful little thing, and she wanted to be crushed? "Shhh." I placed a kiss over her mouth to silence her and then propped myself on my elbows before pulling out my dick and sinking back into her slowly. I realized then, as I watched her body reaction under mine, that I hadn't made love to anyone since her. Oh, I'd fucked a lot of girls - but I'd never with vanilla, missionary sex. It always had to be a production - usually one in which we were not face to face. Doggy style or reverse cowgirl were the only way to go. Any position that allowed me to pull out of the girl, fling off a condom and come all over her stomach or back. I didn't want the visual of her pleasure, but I wanted mine. Selfish, faceless sex with a trail of nameless girls across the country seemed acceptable in my twisted mind, because they could never come back to haunt me. It was always rough and impersonal. Sex for the sake of sex. I was sure in the future Isabella and I would have carnal, unbridaled sex but this wasn't the time for it. I wanted this to be slow and sensual. I wanted it to last as long as possible to savor what was happening between us. Because, frankly? Everything delicious is usually based on a starter of vanilla. "Oooohhhhh..." she exhaled, her head falling limp to the side. "Just like that...baby..." Her words came out sexy and slow. I started slowly thrusting and watching my hardness go in and out of her. She was watching too, which I'd never seen her do before that day. Her fingertips were running lightly up and down my back, leaving little scratches about every third thrust. I'd push into just a tiny bit harder with a grunt. I knew she loved when I was vocal; this girl had an aural fixation like no other, and her hips would rise and writhe to meet mine with each grunt. I was taking it slow, really savoring every second her walls surrounded me. It was a heaven I never wanted to leave; inside her delicate, tightly gripping pussy. Suddenly, I felt her hand between us and she was rubbing her own clit. I didn't think she could be any sexier until that second; the pure realization that she was touching herself while I was inside her nearly sent me over the edge. She'd certainly never done that before. Sure, we'd masturbated together as kids, watching each other, daring, racing each other to orgasm first. But, to see her so comfortable within herself that she'd touch herself while we were making love? Gahhhhh, my twitching, throbbing dick and my perverted mind went into overdrive. I could tell she was getting closer to her orgasm, so I increased my pace with long, fluid thrusts. "Cullen...Cullen...Cullen," she repeated my name under her breath until her legs began to tremble, her walls clenching even harder around me. Her breathing began to bate, and she left her right index finger on top of her clit, perfectly still, as her
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orgasm started to wash over her. I started doing math equations in my head, trying to stop my own release, as her eyes rolled back, her orgasm unleashed, gutteral moans coming from within her throat. God, she was gorgeous, but I wanted her to ride through her orgasm, and it took all my might not to come just then. But, if I came, I'd miss that unbelievable sight. I'd black out for a split second and I couldn't miss this. I needed the image of that orgasm flowing through her seared into my memory forever. Plus, I might have been a one-the-road to recovery manwhore, but I was raised a gentleman. Ladies always come first. She went limp under me, chest heaving, arms thrown back in orgasmic release, sweat glistening over her entire body, with a lazy smile cast on her face. She pulled my face to hers for a harsh, hot kiss and I was undone. Coming while kissing her, inside of her, was so hot that I came even harder. I'd never had condomless sex with anyone before, not even her. As teenagers, we were always safe - she was so paranoid about pregnancy and adverse to taking the pill ("Synthetic hormones? No.") To feel her, to be so connected to her - warm flesh to warm flesh with no latex barriers, I had no idea something could ever feel so good. Off the charts, spin my world upside good. I was pretty certain for a second I was going to pass out and I think I actually bit her lip. Once I stopped seeing stars, I fell from my elbows, pressing onto her sweaty, naked body full weight. With a happy sigh, she hugged me and playfully slapped my naked ass. I didn't pull out, letting my cock go limp within her warmth. I wanted to stay inside her forever. "Goddamn, Swansy. That was so" I whispered, pushing aside a strand of sweaty hair on her forehead. "-Hot," she said to finish my sentence. I kissed her again, never able to get enough of those lips. "Come here," I pulled her face to mine, grinning like a fool. A sated, swoony fool, but a fool none-the-less. Our lips touched, but we did not kiss. I swept out my tongue to run over her bottom lip. I could feel my softening dick twitching inside of her, and her subtle, tiny hip movements of acknowledgement of the twitch. She blushed and smiled. "When does round two start?" She winked at me before pressing her lips onto mine. a/n #2 - Aw, Rockerward. You're a big old cuddlefuckingsap. Heh. You think these kids will ever make it out of the bedroom now? Cos I hear (and I've got the inside scoop) that Edward's got a Rolling Stone photo shoot coming up and Isabella has a full schedule of fittings, screenings and the L.A. premiere of "Two Seater" plus the beginning of the dizzying circuit of award shows to attend. It is Awards Season, after all. Edward may or may not have whispered something to me about game
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night at his parents and a very special evening at the Hollywood Bowl as well... What do you think is going to happen next? Will Isabella wear about poor Edward and cuddlefuck him from here to the moon? xo to new-to-the-team beta pineapplesrock1 for helping out. ALSO - IF YOU'RE STILL READING - I'M ONE OF THE HOSTS OF THE DIRTY TALKING JASPER CONTEST. IT'S SO FUN AND HOT AND ALL JASPER BEING ALL DIRTY ALL THE TIME. YOU SHOULD WRITE FOR IT! THERE'S STILL TIME. link on my profile. xx

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Chapter 12

PEREZ HILTON Uber-agent to young Hollywood, Jacob Black, announced today that he's ended his personal AND professional relationship with Oscar-girl Isabella Swan. The two had a long, steamy love affair that went south after the recent Oscar-nominee was caught red-handed with her ex, sexy Masen frontman, Edward Cullen. Friends are saying that their affair was a well-kept secret for months. Insiders tell us they'd jet all around the world for secret trysts. Poor Jake got the shock of his life when he caught the two making out at a recent Grammy after-party. We can't blame Miz Swan, Edward is a quite a hottie after all. Watch out though Isabella, he's well-known for leaving a trail of broken hearts up and down the Sunset Strip! We do hope these two can make it last. Otherwise holidays could get awkward her brother is also dating HIS sister! Oy! We can't wait to see them hit the red carpet for the Oscars next month! a/n uh-oh. the gossip websites are onto them already (and not quite getting their facts right, hmmm?) Next update is about to hit pre-readers tonight, should be up in a few days. as always, love to hear what you guys think! xx

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Chapter 13

a/n #1 - short weekend chapter. next chap will be up in 24-48 hrs. thanks everyone for your continued support of this story. AWARDS SEASON CH. 13 EPOV When I was exhausted, I tended to pass out, face down, and sleep on my front. I'd wake up to my arms splayed diagonal across the bed, and usually, across the naked body of a groupie. "Wake up, sleepy head," Isabella whispered, as she lowered her warm, bare breasts onto my back. She rubbed her chest side-to-side to get my attention. I opened my eyes and looked at her over my shoulder. "Morning, sexy." I smiled. "Morning? It's almost noon!" She laughed, rolling off of me. A cool blast of air drifted over my back. We adjusted ourselves face-to-face, each laying on our side, resting on our elbows. We'd spent the last three days in bed, giggling, loving and reconnecting on a level I didn't even know was possible. That bed was our island; I never wanted to leave. After a long silence, she sighed and smiled, before rolling over to get out of bed. "I'm going to go take a bath now that you're up, finally," she announced. "No, you don't," I said, pulling at her wrist. I pulled her close to me and started to hum a tune into her ear. I'd been dreaming lyrics in my sleep again. "We're going to have to get out of this bed eventually," she teased me. "I told you I like this bed," I reminded her, as I pulled aside her long hair to kiss the side of her neck. "I like this bed very much." "Edward?" she hesitated to start asking the question I wanted to ask. My father always said, "Don't ask a question if you aren't sure you're ready for the answer." "Uh-oh, what?" Her tone had gone serious. We sat up at the same time and both
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Indian-style, facing each other. It was a familiar position for us; we'd spent hours that way on my teenage bed just talking, doing homework, being together. We both laughed when we realized how unconsciously we slipped into that exact position of years ago. "We..." She started to say as I put my hand on her bare thigh, which put a dirty, sexy smile on my face. "Don't do that!" she scolded me. I could tell she was thinking: 'Don't look at me like that, buster. This is serious'. She knew all my tells, she knew that look would mean I'd end up with my face between her thighs and her fighting for breath within minutes. "Do what?" I asked, trying to play innocent. "You disarm me with your sexy looks. We need to talk seriously for a second," she said. Damn right I do. "Okay, I'm listening," I told her, trying to wipe the grin from my face. "What are we doing here?" she asked point blank. "We're sitting here naked, and you're Indian-style, so I've got quite a nice view, actually." My eyes cast down to her sex. Was she really wondering why I couldn't focus? She sat there, naked and gorgeous and just, well, her. Then she opened her legs like that and didn't think I'm going to want to get my face in there immediately, followed by my dick? I reached out to touch her thigh. "No, no..." She pushed my hand away. "Seriously," she reached over to grab the robe that draped at the end of the bed, "what are we doing?" I grabbed a pillow to put over my lap; my dick had twitched a few times. I looked at her sweetly and said, "Baby, I think we're just jumping in." Just. Jumping. In. "We can just jump in," I continued, taking her face in my hands. "I'll hold your hand as we jump. I'm right here. I'm all in." It was so easy to say that - to her. The words seemed to wash away the fear on her face as I could see her relaxing. She was so beautiful... it really did take my breath away. All I could offer her was my hand and to jump. I'd be at her side. We
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would go through this together. "Let's jump," she squealed before jumping to her feet. She started to bounced on the mattress as I sat below, watching, laughing at her. She was perfection. BPOV "We're here to stage an intervention!" Newton proclaimed as I opened the front door to my apartment. Jessica was standing next to him, smiling from ear to ear. The doorbell had interrupted our bed jumping session. "A sexual intervention, apparently," she giggled as she glanced at my crazy bedhead hair as she walked into the apartment. "GO AWAY!" Edward yelled from the bedroom. We hadn't left the apartment or answered our cell phones since the dinner with my Dad, three days ago. I knew, as did Edward, that it would only be a matter of time before someone came knocking on the door. Frankly, I was surprised Alice didn't show up two days ago. The only outside interaction we'd had during those glorious seventy-two hours was with the Pink Dot delivery guy. The photos from us outside of the restaurant had hit the internet immediately, so to make sure the Pink Dot guy wouldn't go talking to TMZ or Perez Hilton, I faked it like I was sick. I'm pretty certain he was onto us; after all, what sick girl orders ridiculous amounts of food at all hours of the day and night? But he was cool and really well-tipped, if you know what I mean. The photos from the restaurant that made it onto the internet were not the most flattering, probably because of how surprised I was to see the paparazzi in the first place. I forgot about that part of L.A. and, frankly, fame. In Paris, fame was different. It wasn't a big deal. In L.A. if you were even moderately known, you were hunted like a fox; constantly subjected to photographers with their long unforgiving lenses following you around. I was not looking forward to going into the outside world and deal with that reality anytime soon. I knew once Edward and I left the apartment, things would change forever. We'd have to become a public couple. That was hard for me to wrap my brain around as everything about us was so dear to me. Private. Ours. I wasn't ready to share. Edward was mine. Not theirs. "I said, go away," Edward repeated as he walked into the kitchen and gave Mike a man-hug. You know the hugone arm around, pat each other on the arm? Boys. So
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silly. "Mike, I love you, bro, but we've got some serious business to take care of around here," he said, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me close. He bent down and left a trail of slow kisses down my neck, letting out a little growl. "Man, I love this girl," Edward said to no one in particular, coming up for air. "Jess can stay! No band talk! If you stay, duuuude...I know you'll want to talk band business. I'm not in the band business today," he said, kissing my neck again. A three-day long post-coital haze can start to make anyone loopy and Edward was just plain love-drunk. It was really endearing to watch, but I knew our time shutting out the rest of the world was going to have to end soon. "Beer, Mike?" I offered, handing him a cold bottle of beer. Edward rolled his eyes at me, "You'll regret that. He'll sit here all afternoon drinking Stellas while we could be" he drifted his eyes over to the kitchen counter "doing other things." He wiggled his eyebrows at me, suggestively. I slapped him on the chest in fake protest at his suggestion. "Cullen! C'mon. These are our friends. Calm yourself, please," I tried to hold back a giggle. Note to self: kitchen counter action as soon as they leave. He turned and growled at me again, like a tiger on a hunt. "Isabella, can we look at your computer? Karl emailed an electronic lookbook for you," Jessica started to say, pulling me out of the room by the hand away. "We're so behind in your fittings schedule for all these events!" We went into the guest bedroom/office and pulled up some photos on my MacBook Pro. Karl had sent some incredible dresses to consider for the Oscars, but many of them were just too short. I wasn't a sixteen year old going to the prom, I told Jessica. "Maaannn! C'mon! Don't cockblock me with band shit!" I heard Edward's voice raise from the other room. "Mike's telling him he has a photo shoot this afternoon," Jessica said quietly, while clicking through the photos. "What about this one?" she asked, pointing at a white number with feathers. "Too Gaga," I scoffed. She was clearly trying to keep me focused on the fashion choices, but I was distracted by wanting to overhear Mike and Edward's conversation.
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"We're going to need your help, Isabella. When Edward gets like this, so focused on one thing, like you " she trailed off certainly, not wanting to offend me. "Just say it, Jessica," I said sharply. "Dude! I'm not going. Cancel it!" Edward's voice got louder. "He gets hyper-focused on somethinga girl, usuallyand Mike can't get him to keep his commitments. Studio time slips, video shoots are ignored, interviews are stood up," she began to tell me with a hint of concern in her voice. "I'm not just 'a girl', Jessica," I reminded her harshly. "He's got to work, he's got commitments." Jessica nodded. "Mike needs you to back him up," she continued, "...help us get him out the door. This shoot is a big deal. It's a Rolling Stone cover and they already rescheduled once. It was suppose to happen the other night when your dad took us all to dinner." She looked at me. "But we went ahead and canceled when Emmett called and told us that Edward was here with you." Oh, great. I was suddenly the cause of him being a difficult rockstar. How soon until Jasper started calling me "Yoko"? I shuddered at the thought. "Okay," I told Jessica. "Let me get dressed." I hadn't had more on than a bathrobe in the past few days. "Dammit, they got to you!" Edward yelled in only a half-joking manner when I walked into the living room wearing a loose pair of shorts with a super-thin v-neck tee. I sat down on the couch between him and Mike. "I hear you have a Rolling Stone cover to shoot, baby," I purred at him, pulling on my favorite pair of Hunter boots. "Ah, fuck me," Edward said, knowing he'd have to go. He ran his fingers through his moppy, unruly hair, defeated and pissed. Mike winked at me and mouthed "Thank you". I just nodded back and kissed Edward on the cheek. "The quicker you go, the quicker we come home," I said into his ear. I hoped he was still thinking about the kitchen counter like I was. "The girl has a point," he said, "let's go." Edward stood up to leave. "You need to shower and clean up," I laughed as he virtually bolted towards the door.
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"Oh no, darling. These hooligans practically break into your apartment and kidnap me... They get me as I am." He motioned down his bodyall sweaty, wearing the wrinkled t-shirt he picked up off the floor with his out-of-control, sex hair. Somehow, I'd never seen him look sexier. He fit the rockstar mold to a T. He was sexy, confident and just, well, himself. "Mike, can we meet you guys downstairs? I need to talk to Edward about something quickly," I asked. "Sure. Ten minutes or we send a search party," he half-joked before heading out the door. "Quickie, baby? I saw that sparkle in your eye when I glanced at the kitchen counter. I know what you were thinking," Edward said as soon as the door shut behind Jessica and Mike. I started to blushwas I that obvious? "I wanted to talk to you about something you said in the kitchen," I replied, patting the sofa for him to sit next to me. "Cullen," I looked up at him, into those mesmerizing eyes, "you said you loved me." My voice cracked a little due to underlying nervousness. It felt so quick to proclaim love, even though we never stopped loving each other. The entire thing made my head spin. My heart started to race as he kissed me feverishly. "Of course I love you, Swan," he told me as if it were the most obvious thing on earth. "You haven't said it before" I stopped myself because he had said it, just not in ten years. "Recently." A dry lump formed in my throat and I felt more vulnerable than I had in a long time. "I love you, Isabella Marie Swan." He smiled. "Don't you ever fucking doubt that!" His words sounded real, but they had for the years leading up to our break-up as well. I was cautious, yes, but at the same time it felt right. The way he looked at me, the way he touched me - those things were more real than they'd ever been. Maybe time really could heal all wounds? "Now let's get this show on the road. The quicker we go, the quicker we get home and I have sex with you on that counter." He kissed my forehead and jump up, full of energy. "Cullen?" "Yes, baby?" he replied, reaching out a hand to help me up from the sofa. "I love you, too."
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"I know you're worried, baby. I can see it in your eyes." He smiled, trying to reassure me. "I am worried. This is all so unexpected. It feels real. It feels really real" I started to say. "And it felt real ten years ago, I know." He took my face in his hands. "You've got meall of me. I'll do whatever it takes to prove it." I kissed him softly, trying to keep my emotions in check. The hormone overload of all the sex and the declaration of love had every emotion I'd ever felt just bubble up to the surface. I was on the edge of tearshappy tears, but tears nonetheless. "Just tell me you're in this. It's not just some fling," I asked of him. "Fling?" He laughed. "You, baby, will never be just a fling. You're my life," he raised his voice a little, smiling ear-to-ear. "Seriously?" I asked. I hadn't realized until that moment how much I needed him to tell me this. I felt it; I felt the love and passion between us, but I needed him to reassure me. The teenager deep within me still had lingering doubts. The girl that had been dumped on that Malibu beach still worried about a repeat. "We decided to jump in, right?" he asked me, reaching for my hand. Gently, with his thumb and index finger, he started to play with my mother's engagement ring, which I always wore on my right hand ring finger. "Right," I agreed. He leaned in to kiss my neck and growled loudly, his scruff trailing up to my ear. "Let's get the hell out of here. One more minute and I'm going to have no choice but to go down on you," he whispered in my ear, nuzzling into my hair. "Mmmmm." That sounded heavenly, but Mike and Jess would kill me if I didn't get him to that blasted photo shoot. a/n #2 Big, big thanks to maxipoo1024 and pineapplesrock1 on whipping this chapter into shape. You girls are the best. Next chapter will be up in 24-28 hours. I hear from a little birdy that hmmm Jacob might be involved somehow? You didn't really think he was gone that quickly did you? IMPORTANT QUESTION OF THE WEEK: I'm about to make a video trailer for
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this lil fic - if you could pick any one or two songs as Isabella and Edward's theme song, what would it be? ALSO - IF YOU'RE A FAN OF A DIRTY TALKING JASPER LIKE I AM, CHECK OUT THE LINK IN MY PROFILE TO THE DIRTY TALKING JASPER CONTEST I'M CO-HOSTING WITH UNF4ROB. IT'S AWESOMESAUCESEXYAMAZING.

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Chapter 14

A/N - PLEASE READ: just a reminder because I know it can be confusing in this story - there are so pairs that are not canon. Alice is with Emmett, and she's Edward's sister. Emmett is Bella's twin in this story. Jasper, well. We haven't gotten much to Jasper, yet, have we? ...And where's Rose? Okay, here we go... BPOV When we walked into the studio, Edward's arm draped over my shoulder, Emmett and Jasper were already standing in front of a scrim striking poses. I don't know if I'd ever get used to seeing Emmett like this. A rockstar? My Emmett? He was always just my goofy little brother. Seeing him like that - with a set full of people there because of his band, photographing them for Rolling Stone - was a lot to absorb. "There he is, finally!" Emmett moaned, annoyed. "Why did you bring Isabella?" he called over. "Cos she's my girl," he replied, kissing me on the cheek, as if it was the stupidest question in the world. Why wouldn't he bring me?... Emmett came over to us, looking more than annoyed - he looked pissed. "Dude, this is a band thing, why is she here?" he started to question Edward. Oh, crap. This could end badly. Emmett's reddening face said a lot. He was definitely pissed. "Dude," Edward mocked him in return, before stepping really closely to him, getting in his personal space. "It's not like she's some fucking groupie I picked up on the street. She's your fucking sister, show some respect." In the back of my mind, I was wondering who was going to throw the first punch. And, honestly? Seeing Edward punch Jacob the other night was pretty fucking hot, so if he wanted to take a shot at Emmett, I might not complain. "Boys, boys..." Alice appeared out of nowhere, wriggling her tiny body between them. "Cool your jets, would you?" Emmett stepped back, but raised an eyebrow at Edward, taunting him like 'You
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going to listen to your sister?' "Edward, we need to get you dressed." Alice paused and gave him the up-down. "Well...hmmm." She ran a few fingers through his hair and smoothed out the front of his t-shirt. "Maybe not, this look suits you, but something is missing..." She looked over at me and I just shrugged. This was new, too; seeing Alice in action as a stylist. I knew she'd become a stylist since I was away - and apparently Jessica had hired her to help me get through awards season, but this was the first time I got to see her in action. She ran her hands from Edward's shoulders down his arms to his wrists. Then she looked up at him, quizzically. "Where's your cuff?" she asked, her voice full of surprise. Edward looked over at me and grinned. "I guess I left it at the apartment." He gulped and I watched his adam's apple as it bobbed up and then back down. Alice held onto his wrist, looking at it, bare and exposed for the first time in years and she noticed the tattoo; her eyes widened and darted between me and her brother. "Jesus fucking Christ, man. I totally blocked that from my memory, let me see that..." Emmett stepped closer. "Is that why you've worn that cuff for so long? To cover that?" "The cuff was a gift from me," I chimed in. "It was so Esme wouldn't see the tattoo, actually." I wonder if Esme ever did see it? "Well, Edward Masen Cullen," Alice teased. "I like the new uncuffed you. You look fantastic, let's get this shoot started." She pulled him off by the hand and introduced him to the photographer. Jessica and I sat in the back of the studio, chatting while keeping ourselves occupied with our iPhones. The photo shoot seemed to take forever. Edward was distracted with me being there and the photographer wasn't getting what he needed. He finally figured out what he needed to do was distracted Edward with something else he loved - guitars. Luckily, Mike had several taken out from their rehearsal/storage space and sent over for the shoot. It was very relaxing to sit there, listening to him strum his guitar while the photoshoot was going on. I was enjoying a game of Words With Friends on my phone. Jessica suddenly got a pained look on her face and yelled, "HOLY SHIT!" very
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loudly. I didn't know why, but my only response was to giggle at her. "You're not going to be laughing when you hear this bullshit," she snapped at me. "What?" I asked, putting my phone down on the sofa between us. "There's something on Perez Hilton about you and Jake," she said. "That. Little. Fucker." She sounded absolutely disgusted. I shouldn't be surprised, but somehow I was. I always knew he could be a fucked up jerk, but I also saw how amazingly loyal and great he was with his real friends. But, I guess we weren't friends anymore, were we? Jessica started reading from her phone: Uber-agent to young Hollywood, Jacob Black, announced today that he's ended his personal AND professional relationship with Oscar-girl Isabella Swan. The two had a long, steamy love affair that went south after the recent Oscar-nominee was caught red-handed with her ex, sexy Masen frontman, Edward Cullen. Friends are saying that their affair was a well-kept secret for months. Insiders tell us they'd jet all around the world for secret trysts. Poor Jake got the shock of his life when he caught the two making out at a recent Grammy after-party. We can't blame Miz Swan, Edward is a quite a hottie, after all. Watch out though, Isabella, he's well-known for leaving a trail of broken hearts up and down the Sunset Strip! We do hope these two can make it last. Otherwise, holidays could get awkward her brother is also dating HIS sister! Oy! We can't wait to see them hit the red carpet for the Oscars next month! I just sat there, my face paling by the second. "That's a lie!" I yelled. I was furious, absolutely seething. "He didn't catch us at a party! We weren't having an affair!" I couldn't believe Jake would stoop so low as to plant a stupid story like that. How dare he? I was so angry at him for being a jerk and Perez for posting it without calling someone to verify. "That's a wrap!" someone yelled across the room. With what always seemed like impeccable timing, Edward came over and plopped down on the sofa in between us. "What's going on, foxes?" I started rambling about the Perez post and before I knew it he was turning red with anger and pulling his iPhone out of his pocket. "Who are you calling?" Jessica asked. "That motherfucker, Perez." He started scrolling through his address book.
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"Oh no, you're not," she said, grabbing the phone out his hand. "Jess!" I protested. "Isabella, did you hear the most important part of that post? 'he's ended his personal and professional relationship with Oscar-girl Isabella Swan'. Professional, he said," she repeated. We both looked at her confused. "He got CAA to fire you," Jessica said, flatly. Jessica excused herself to call my dad. This situation, Jake getting CAA to fire me, was much bigger than just spreading rumors about Edward and I on a gossip blog. I told Edward about my fears that something like this could happen. We both knew it wasn't true, that we hadn't been having an affair, but once it's out on the Internet it's all anyone believes. "He makes me sound like a cheating bitch," I whined. Edward held me in his arms, trying to comfort me. I laid on my head on his shoulder and just tried to figure out what the hell Jake thought he was doing, pulling a stunt like this. "He's jealous, baby," he told me. He was right, of course. I had to hold back my instincts to attack Jake and let Jessica do her job. If he was going to make our situation public, my only option was to let Jessica speak for me. For us. "Charlie's calling a meeting with all of us, his lawyers, your lawyers, and Brooks Brown," Jessica told us as she hung up the phone with my dad. Wow. This was serious. Brooks Brown was the Co-President of CAA, agent to both me and Dad as well as being one of his oldest friends. We were all set to meet at the house at 6:00 p.m. Dad was in the kitchen when Edward and I walked in, holding hands and giggling. Everyone else was outside at the big teak dining table, near the pool already. "Edward, can you give us a moment, son?" Charlie asked. "Of course, sir." Edward kissed my cheek and went outside. "What is it, Dad?" I asked, unsure of what was happening. "I just want to make sure everything is okay," he replied, handing me a bottle of chilled SmartWater.
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"Well, no, this Jacob thing is pretty upsetting," I said. "No, darling, I mean with you and Edward. I'm just a little" I cut him off before he could say it. "We're okay, Dad." I smiled. "I just want to make sure." His tone was very serious. "It's just all very sudden, and you were so wrecked last time; I don't want to see you go through that again." "I won't." I darted my eyes around the room - I hadn't been here in so long. Nothing in the kitchen had changed in all my years away. I'd always loved this room; I spent more time here than anywhere else in the house for many, many years. The adjoining open-plan family room was our main hub as teenagers. Jessica, Alice and I spent nearly every Friday and Saturday night sprawled out on the shabby-chic sofas, whispering secrets and sharing our dreams. The family room mantle was lined with my fathers Oscars and Golden Globes, while my only Oscar mother's held a place of honor right in the middle. "I just want to make sure his intentions are pure." "Dad, it's serious, I can say that much." I could understand my Dad's worry. Trying to reassure him wasn't easy. "We're committed to try to make it work this time." I started to hug him. "Your little girl will be okay." "This all seems very quick after what happened between you two kids." "I know, Dad. I know." I looked up at him. "But don't worry. I know it seems quick, but really, it's been ten years in the making." "If he hurts you again, I'll gut him the way I'm about to gut that little dog, Jacob Black," he said, unapologetic in his viciousness. "Thanks for coming, everyone," Charlie said, looking around the table. I hadn't felt like I was really back in Hollywood until that moment, when I looked around the table. Along with my father and myself, the group consisted of: Mike Newton, Jessica Stanley, Brooks Brown from CAA, my lawyer, Tyler Crowley, Masen's lawyer, Lauren Mallory, Masen's agent, Eric Yorkie, Edward, Emmett, and Jasper. Seated just behind us were every one's assistantsvery Hollywood to drag your assistant to every meeting you attendAngela Weber, who worked with Jess and Mike, Emily Young who worked for Brooks, Sue Clearwater, who assisted my lawyer, Tyler, and the prettiest of the bunch, Leah Clearwater, who worked for Eric (and slept with him on the side; Edward would tell me later). Lauren Mallory, Masen's young, ambitious music business attorney, came solo. Last, but never least,
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was Dad's assistant, Mary Ann, who had been working with him longer than I could remember. "Brooks, do you want to start by telling us what the fuck is going on at CAA? How can one little dog of an agent fire Isabella? Does the firm not realize how much business is generated from everyone who sits at this table? I won't even mention the fact Isabella is up for an Oscar, which could mean millions in future revenue." He was right. I'd been with CAA since I started acting; they had represented Dad as long as I could remember, and Masen as well. Everyone at the table was silent. I felt bad that my Dad was calling out one of his oldest friends like this, but I understood what he was doing. He was making a point: don't fuck with my kids. "Decisions were made without my knowledge, Charlie," he tried to begin to explain. "Black had some materials on Hopper that were, um,"he looked back at Emily"don't write this down," he told her. She put down her notepad. "Hopper's got two strikes, as most of you know." He looked around the table and most nodded, understanding what he was referring to. I, on the other hand, had no idea what he was talking about. Hopper Brown, his brother, was the Co-President of CAA, but I knew nothing (until later that night) of his apparent criminal history. "Let's just say there's a video of a pot deal involving a young Polish woman." He grimaced. My Dad would later have to translate this for me, but everyone at the table seemed to understand him. "Video of a pot deal" meant there was footage of his massive 10,000 square foot personal warehouse pot-growing farm in the Valley. "Young polish woman" meant he was caught on video getting frisky with his son's underage au pair. Now, in Hollywood, these things weren't terribly scandalous, but if you add to it that Hopper already had two strikes in the California legal system, everything changes. It was as simple as this: if the video got out, he'd easily get two more strikes. One for the pot and one for the girl, and that would lead him into the prison system automatically for 25 years. Charlie took a deep breath and looked around, looking like a Cheshire cat. "I have an idea," he started to say. "Fuck CAA. If they treat my daughter this way, they aren't worthy of my account" "Or ours!" Edward added. My Dad smiled at him, proudly. They had a quick, silent bonding moment
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between them with a nod. "I'm dead serious. Fuck them, those spineless weasels. We don't need CAA. For all of our careers, everything we need is right here, at this table," Charlie proclaimed. I loved the way my father thoughtclear and rational, but always such a risk taker. He was bold in his moves. They nearly always paid off. He hadn't gotten this far in his career, and this town, without taking risks. "I want to form a new company," he announced. "I want us to form a collective to manage our careers and share profits instead of paying percentages." I turned and looked at Jessica who was smiling wildly. "Look, I know you all have contracts and commitments to other clients, I get that. But, what I'm proposing is, under the umbrella of my production company that you, Brooks, head up the talent division. Young Newton over here heads up music. Jessica handles PR. Lauren and Tyler head up the legal department. Everyone brings their assistants and current staff." The assistants looked relieved at that. They all saw their careers fly out the window for a nano-second. "The only thing I ask is that we never, ever hire anyone who is a client at CAA. No actors, no writers, no producers," Dad said. Brooks looked caught off guard. "You want to black-ball CAA for letting Jacob fire Isabella?" "I didn't say that, did I?" Dad smirked. He didn't have to say it. It was crystal clear. My ex fired me and the outcome would be that my father would change how Hollywood was run. He'd take control of all our careers without putting us at the mercy of our agents. It was brilliant, bold and scary. "I want everyone to think about it and get back to me." "Stanley and I are in," Mike said without hesitation. "Well, well. Newton's in," he said, nodding in his direction. "I'm in," Lauren said, smiling. One by one, everyone around the table agreed. The new company would be called
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Embell Entertainment. Dad asked Jessica to prep a press release and get it to the Hollywood Reporter and Variety in time to make the morning editions. "Tell them they can leak it to the L.A Times as soon as they go to print," he told her. She winked at him and went to the car to get her laptop, Angela trailing behind. Edward leaned over to me and whispered, "Jesus, baby, your father is hardcore." He rubbed his forehead looking very concerned. Edward wasn't used to seeing my father this wayin business mode. The unfortunate part of the entire situation was that Jacob wouldn't just lose his job as retaliation for losing CAA's biggest clients. Jake literally had Hopper over a barrel with that video. He'd have a career at CAA; but he'd have no clients, and he wouldn't be able to ever work anywhere else. My Dad would make sure of that. So, he'd be sitting in his fancy Wilshire Boulevard office with nothing to do for the next twenty years but collect a paycheck. It was the Hollywood version of a prison sentence. "Well, no one fucks with his daughter and gets away with it," I replied, leaning over to kiss him on the ear. Edward's eyes widened and he blew out a gust of air from his lungs before speaking solemnly. "Noted." A/N Ruh-oh. I think Jake's in trouble now. xx love you all. thanks for your sweet reviews, pms and twitter messages. keep it coming, i love to hear your thoughts on these two crazy kids.

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Chapter 15

HOLLYWOOD REPORTER Charlie Swan sacks CAA without notice and starts own company. In a move sure to shock all of Hollywood, blockbuster film-maker Charlie Swan ended his 35-year relationship with powerhouse agency CAA late yesterday. The firm also represented his daughter, Oscar-nominee, Isabella Swan and his son, Emmett Swan, a member of the rock band Masen. Mr. Swan announced he would be immediately forming Embell Entertainment, an all encompassing firm to be headed up by former CAA Co-President Brooks Brown. The firm will also have a music division, helmed by longtime Masen manager, Mike Newton. Legal wiz kids, Tyler Crowley and Lauren Mallory will oversee the legal division. Overall, Mr. Swan is set to poach a minimum of 10 staffers from CAA. In another surprise move, Masen agent Eric Yorkie of William Morris will also be joining Embell to work alongside Newton. Mr. Newton's wife and business partner, Jessica Stanley, is slated to take the position of Sr. VP, Communications. CAA officials declined to comment. Jacob Black, CAA agent to most of young Hollywood, was, until recently, romantically linked to Miss Swan. A spokesperson for Embell would neither confirm nor deny their split had anything to do with Mr. Swan's decision to leave the venerable agency. "We do not comment on the personal lives of our clients," the spokesperson said by email overnight. When asked what prompted the formation of this soon-to-be powerhouse firm, Mr. Swan simply said, "It was time for us to take control of our careers again." It's still unclear how the other clients of Mr. Brooks, Mr. Crowley, Miss Mallory and Mr. Yorkie will be handled. Mr. Swan's last film, "A Bridge Too Far", has earned $200 million dollars to date in the U.S. alone. Miss Swan's current film, "Two Seater", the film that caused such a bidding war at Sundance this year, will go into limited release this week via Sony Classics. The rock band Masen, which counts Mr. Swan's son, Emmett, as a member, has the number five album in the country according to the latest Billboard-Soundscan reports and is set to headline the Hollywood Bowl this weekend. A/N - wait, did they say movie premiere AND a Hollywood Bowl show in the same week? Jsssh, these two are going to be busy. Next update is probably 5-7 days
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away. Still looking for suggestions on what would be a good theme song for our young couple for our video trailer. Thoughts? P.S. Charlie doesn't fuck around, does he? *evil laugh* xx

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Chapter 16

Ch. 16 Awards Season BPOV "Charlie's a bad ass!" Alice giggled, pulling two racks of clothing behind her into my living room. She'd pulled a bunch of looks of "going out" outfits that needed to be tried on and edited down. "Yeah last night was interesting," I replied. The racks looked pretty overwhelming - was I supposed to try everything on? This looked more daunting than the wardrobe fittings I had to do for most films. These were just supposed to be outfits I could wear around town and to a few press appearances I had coming up - not even award shows. "It's all over the internet, your dad is setting this town on fire!" When Jessica showed up a few minutes later, Alice already had me in nothing but 4" heels, nude colored panties and a strapless bra standing there in my living room. "Okay! Let's start with the daytime looks," she ran her fingers over a few hangers and smiled. "This one. Try this for Riley's premiere tomorrow, it's perfect." "That one is good," Jessica chimed in. It was a simple Marc Jacobs dress, chiffon but not fussy, with a lace trim around the collar. "It's not frumpy?" I wondered aloud. "Not on you, trust me," Alice reassured me, holding it up to my body. "Try it." "I thought I heard voices," Edward muttered, stumbling into the living room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Did we wake you?" I asked, as Alice pulled the dress over my head. He looked around at the racks of clothes, shoe boxes, and plastic bags everywhere and scratched his forehead. "Did Bergdorfs explode in here or something?" He flopped onto the sofa, in only his boxers, next to Jessica who was chatting quietly on her cell phone. "Hi Jess," he
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whispered before kissing her on the cheek. It was a cute, sweet gesture. Like I did, he thought of Jessica as a sister and was openly affectionate towards her the same was he was with Alice. "What do you think of this dress for Riley's premiere?" I asked Edward, twirling around. When I stopped, right in front of him, he reached out and slid his hand under the fabric cupping the back of my knee. His fingertips made a slow back and forth motion over the smooth skin there, sending a shiver up my spine. "It's gorgeous, like you," he smiled up at me, the flirtiness in his voice had me wishing we were alone. "Okay!" I spun back around. "This one is a keeper," I told Alice as I started to take the dress off. "Great, Riley's premiere dress taking care of," Alice noted, scribbling something in a small notebook. "Wait," Edward said, "who is Riley? What premiere?" "I told you," I started to say as Alice handed me the next dress, "Riley...he's the guy in "Two Seater" with me? He has another movie premiering this week, Jessica thought it would be a good idea for me to walk the carpet tomorrow night." I nodded towards Jess. "Mmmm-hmmm," Jessica replied, while still on her call. "But tomorrow is game night at my parents," Edward reminded me. "We'll go after." I tried on a few more outfits, and Edward just sat on the sofa and watched. I was really impressed with Alice - it was the first time we'd worked together - how organized she was, and how quickly she put just the perfect look together for me. She even brought a few Burberry suits for Edward. When Jessica finished her phone calls, she handed both Edward and I slips of paper. "Here's your schedules for this week. I've also sent them to your iPhones, you'll have little reminders go off, okay?" Edward rolled his eyes at me, behind Jessica's back. "Don't think I don't see you rolling your eyes, Edward Cullen," she joked. She had his number, that was for sure. She might have needed to me to help keep him on
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schedule, but I was certain she didn't need me to keep him in line. She had that covered. "Wait. This says we're on Conan tonight?" He sounded shocked. EPOV Crap. Forgot about Conan. I was not ready. We had all these new songs to rehearse and I'd been blowing off everything since Sundance because I was so distracted by Isabella. "I can't do it," I tried to say to Jessica. "Oh, you're doing it." It was kind of cute when she got all forceful and in control when Mike wasn't around to keep me in line. She stepped right up, you gotta respect that. The schedule she'd given me was crazy -seriously packed to the gills. Conan, Riley's premiere, another photo shoot, a label meeting, tour rehearsal, Isabella's premiere for "Two Seater" and our Hollywood Bowl show in just the next five days. When was I suppose to sleep? I somehow convinced Isabella to come with me to Conan; she didn't want to. She thought she'd "Get in the way." How cute was she? I wanted her with me every minute of everyday, and we were lucky in our jobs that we could be together. I usually had to stop girls from hanging around with me everywhere, but she wasn't just any girl now was she? The one annoying thing about doing those late night tv shows was they always wanted you there hours before taping. There wasn't much purpose to it, really, you just ended up sitting around for hours. As soon as we arrived, we were told we couldn't sound check for about an hour. Jessica and Mike both went off with their cell phones in hand while Isabella, Emmett and I stood in a backstage hallway talking. "Did he tell you about the time he got locked IN the bus right before we were about to go on?" Emmett was laughing at me, telling Isabella my most embarrassing road stories. "He had to climb out the back window!" "I nearly fell on my ass, and this jackass-" I slapped Emmett on the shoulder, "didn't even try to help me! He was videotaping the entire thing and put it on the internet before we even hit the stage." We both started laughing hysterically. Emmett and I have had some rough times together over the years, because of Isabella and all the shit that happened, but
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we've also always been thick as thieves. "Hey boys!" I heard Rose Hale yell from down the hall and she sauntered over to us. She wrapped her arms around me in a way-too-tight hug. "Hey, baby," she purred in my ear. "Oh, here we go," I heard Emmett mumble under his breath. I looked over at Isabella to gauge her reaction and it was a cross between horror and confusion. "Rose, Rose." I tried to push her off me. "You haven't returned my calls since you got back from Sundance, what's your damage, Edward?" She tried to playfully slap me, but her undertone was pissed and desperate. It was a tone I was used to hearing from far too many girls. I'd charm them, fuck them, and lose interest. Unfortunately, they'd set expectations on me once charmed - and as I warned them all in advance - expectations can only lead to disappointment. But, they never realized that until it was far too late. Yes, I knew I was an asshole. BPOV Rose? Who was Rose? This skanky girl pops up out of nowhere and latches onto Edward like a monkey climbing a tree. Frankly, she seemed pathetic. Were we going to run into girls like this a lot? The thought of that made me sick to my stomach. Did he fuck this girl? Oh, God. He fucked her. He'd been intimate with her? With that skank? How many girls were out there like this one? How often were we going to run into them? Was I going to be reminded of his previous conquests every day for the rest of our lives? The questions kept swirling, spinning in my head, making me dizzy with uneasy possibilities. I believed him when he said he loved me, and could see it in his eyes. But this - seeing her in person; seeing the way she just wanted his attention, a scrap of desire and acknowledgement that they once shared something, even for the briefest of moments - one of the nameless, faceless girls left behind was hard to bear. "Rose, I want you to meet Isabella," Edward reached out for my hand. "Oh, you're the french girl." She smirked at me. "Actually, I'm from Beverly-" I started to tell her where I was from when she cut me off completely.
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"Eddie, we need to rehearse the song," she said, in a sugary-sweet voice as she ran her fingertips up his forearm. Song? Wait a motherfucking minute. They are performing together? "Song?" I squeaked. "Yeah, we do this duet on the new album, you'll love it," Edward said, casually. "We haven't performed it live, this will be the first time." "There's always a first time," Rose laughed, as if it were an inside joke. She was trying to flirt with him right in front of me. "C'mon," she grabbed at his arm, pulling him away. "Come help me tune my guitar." And before I could even blink, she was pulling him down the hallway and out to the stage. Emmett and I stood there quiet for a moment. Inside, my guts were twisted. I knew of his history, his "exploits" as he called them, but this was the first time I'd been face-to-face with them. I didn't realize the baggage of his exploits would spill over into our everyday lives. They were doing a duet together? How often would they have to perform? What if it became a hit? There was no way in hell I could stomach her singing with him night after night. No way. I barely got to speak to Edward before the taping started. I was trying to stay out of the way and not make a scene, but I really did not like the way this girl was hanging on his every word. Then, oddly, as soon as Jasper was in the room, she was all over him. It was like she had a Cullen brother fetish. Were they interchangeable to her? Ew. "Hey, I wanted to come back and say hi before you guys go on," Conan said, poking his head in the dressing room door. He was taller than I expected; lanky and a bit awkward. Charming in a geeky, unassuming way. "Hi, I'm Conan," he introduced himself to me, when he saw me standing by Jessica. Jessica introduced us formally before suggesting his producers book me on his show sometime soon. She was always workin' it, bless her. "Yeah, yeah, that's be great. Glad you're here tonight, Isabella. Congrats on the Oscar. Feel free to stand at the side of the stage when the boys are playing."
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"I will, thanks." I watched from the side of stage as Rose strapped on her acoustic guitar and pulled her stool as close to Edward as possible. A producer stood in front of the audience, explaining to them to sequence of upcoming events: they'd come back from commercial, Conan would hold up a CD and introduce Masen and then the band would play. "Clap wildly once Conan introduces the band!" He said, trying to sound excited. I heard Rose ask "You ready, baby?" during Conan's introduction. I'm nearly positive she knew her mic was turned on and that everyone would hear her. The song started slow, and it surprised me how sexy it was in it's simplicity. Most of Masen's material was very upbeat, rock with a country-edge. This song was slow and warm, and I had to admit their voices blended together beautifully. It's so easy to forget The bitter taste the morning left Swore I wouldn't go back there again Rose lowered her gaze as Edward sung his parts, letting her long hair fall forward. It was simple, sexy move, that I'm certain was calculated because Rose seemed like the kind of girl where nothing happened by chance. I could tell she was trouble. 'Cause you and Tequila make me crazy Run like poison in my blood One more night could kill me, baby One is one too many, one more is never enough I wasn't sure who wrote this song or maybe they'd even written it together, but I was slowly falling in love with it. The rawness in their voices, the emotional connection, was visceral. What I was witnessing was exactly why Edward got into music in the first place. "It's the only thing that brings everyone together," he told me once. "It's a common language the world over. Every human on earth has shared memories because of music. Being able to be a part of that is a dream." When it comes to you
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Oh, the damage I could do It's always your favorite sins That do you in When the song was over, Conan went onto the stage and shook hands with everyone. Rose immediately jumped off her stool and positioned herself, again, as close to Edward as possible. I always felt sorry for girls who were so obvious. There was nothing attractive about that. EPOV I didn't like Isabella's blank expression as we walked backstage. The boys were excited - as was Rose - because the audience really seemed to love the song. It was the first time we'd performed it live and we hadn't rehearsed it in weeks, so it was very raw. Maybe too raw? Everyone headed back to our dressing room, but I pulled Isabella aside. "Everyone is going back to Emmett's to celebrate and jam, sound fun?" "No." Uh-oh. She was not happy. "I know your so-called exploits are in the past and I'm not going to turn into some crazy, jealous bitch every time a random girl pops up, but I didn't think I'd be faced it with so soon." She sounded heartbroken, like I'd let her down. The last thing I ever wanted to do was let her down again. I pulled her close into my arms and kissed the side of her head. "Rose means nothing to me, baby." "Oh God, you did fuck her," she pushed me away and looked around, upset with herself for potentially making a scene. "Shit," she whispered. "I just didn't expect it to me thrown in my face..." "Baby, listen," I leaned into her and spoke low. "You," I took her hand and interlaced her fingers with mine, "are the only girl I love. I love you. That trumps anything else I've ever done. Any girls. I've only ever - and will only ever - love you." I wasn't used to this version of Isabella, she never was the type to hurl accusations at me or be unsure of where we stood. Of course, I'd never given her reasons to doubt me until I pulled the plug on the whole thing. Would I spend the rest of our lives reassuring her because of my teenage fuck-up? The second I saw her at the cabin in Park City, everything came flooding back, and I was reminded
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what it was to love someone so deeply. I loved her without hesitation or caution. I loved the girl I lost and the woman she'd become. I assumed she was on the exact same page I was - we had agreed to jump together. I just had to remind myself that I also told her I'd hold her hand. Only my future actions could prove my love to her. We just had to both deal with my past being a big part of that. BPOV Fucking charmer. He always did know the perfect thing to say. I knew his words were true and it's not like I didn't know about his history. Not only had it been well documented in the press, we'd already spent hours and hours talking about it. None of this was a surprise. I had nothing to be jealous of. Jealousy was based on insecurities. I was secure in the fact he loved me. I was, really, but it's one thing to hear about someones sordid past and then to see it in the flesh. "I thought we were going to Emmy's?" I asked as we pulled into the Chateau Marmont valet parking line. "Changed my mind." He smiled. "I think we should sit and have burgers in the lobby, doesn't that sound fun?" It sounded perfect. We spent a lot of time at the Chateau as teenagers, in fact we lost our virginity to each other in room 910. The great thing about the Chateau was in the lobby you could sink into this unbelievably comfortable red velvet sofas and order food and cocktails. It had a very living roomy vibe. We used to come and hang out for hours; eating burgers, playing cards or Scrabble while slowly falling in love. As soon as my body sunk into one of the sofas everything washed away. This was a fantastic idea. Just me, Edward and an unscheduled evening ahead of us. Bliss. "She'll have a burger, medium rare with extra sharp cheddar and extra pickles on the side," Edward winked at me as he ordered our food. "I'll have the same, but no pickles on mine." "I'll take his!" I interrupted. Edward tried to hold back a laugh, as he placed his hand on my knee. "And I'll have a Stella, my girl will have a Sidecar? Yes?" he asked me. "Yes, please." After dinner, we sat on that sofa for hours people watching and whispering to each other. That was the thing about Edward, he wasn't just my boyfriend - he was my best friend. We never, ever, ran out of things to talk about. It used to drive everyone around us crazy how chatty and giggly we always were. But, we made each other happy. We shared a lifetime of history and yet had a lifetime to catch up
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on, it seemed. Oddly, it was the perfect combination. We really had slipped right back to where we'd been so long ago. I didn't want to doubt him or his intentions, I didn't want to become a paranoid girl, but still deep within I was twisted with concern. I barely recovered from him leaving me once, what if something (or someone) ripped us apart again? "I have an idea," he glanced at me with those wicked, sexy eyes. "You totally just eye-fucked me buster," I took another sip of my third Sidecar. The Sidecar was my mother's cocktail of choice and anytime I had the opportunity, I drank them. Edward gave me a sexy growl for the eye-fucking remark, telling me to sit tight, he'd be right back. "Keep your eyes closed," he advised. We'd taken an elevator ride, but I had no idea what was waiting for me when I opened my eyes. He kissed me softly, slowly, with great purpose. His hands starting to roam my body, venturing down from my shoulders, tracing my spine, landing on my ass. His hands felt so good on me, so right. When he pulled away from the kiss he whispered "Okay, baby, open your eyes." I blinked several times as I got my barrings. We were in a hallway. I turned around a few times, trying to figure out what was happening and then I saw the number in front of me: 910. He pushed in the key into the lock and turned the knob, smiling at me wildly. "Our room," he motioned for me to enter ahead of him. "You got our room?" It was a such a sweet, romantic thing to do. I couldn't believe it. The fact that he thought of it and the room happened to be available? Great timing. We needed some more of that in our lives. "Timing," I kidded him, throwing down my purse on the sofa. "It's all about timing," he agreed, taking off his jacket. The rooms at the Chateau aren't like most hotel rooms - the place was originally built as apartments, so all the rooms are actually several rooms. Most, like this one,
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included a kitchen. The great thing about this particular room was it also had a large balcony overlooking Sunset Boulevard. I went to the window to look out at the view. "I missed this view," I said, wistfully. Edward came up behind me and put his arms around me, holding me tightly. He started to kiss my shoulder and then up my neck, his lips warm and lingering on my bare skin. His right hand slid down and found my hand. He bought it up to his mouth and kissed my mothers ring that I always wore. "Do you remember our first kiss?" He asked, as the diamond twinkled on my hand. The summer I turned 13, we spent a lot of time in the pool house at my Dad's experimenting with all kinds of things: liquor, drugs, but mostly, each other. The liquor, stolen from my Dad's wine collection, usually lead to games of Truth or Dare. In June, the games started innocently enough and a lot of the dares had to do with spending an hour in the sauna at the highest setting and then jumping into the unheated lap pool or going to "borrow" something from the desperate housewife next door. By July, the truths were ruling the game and bringing out bigger and bigger secrets. When August rolled around and we'd been hot, sweaty and barely clothed together all summer long our hormones took over. Mike was the first one to vocalize a kissing dare and since that night the flood gates were open. I'd been put up to these dares a few times and been forced to give Jasper one of the most embarrassing kisses of my life in front of the group. We didn't even know what to do, we pressed our lips together and both sort of pursed them like we'd tasted a super sour lemon. Kissing Jasper was like kissing my own brother. It was horrible. In late August, as the dares progressed, things got more intense. I'd always had a crush on Edward, which was probably obvious to everyone but him. I mean, we were raised practically as siblings. He, Jasper and Alice were always at our house or Em and I were at theirs. We all vacationed together, shared holidays, shared our entire lives. Things started to slowly change that spring and summer, as our bodies began to blossom and hormones rose to the surface. I suddenly found Edward looking at me differently. One day in the kitchen, I'd seen his eyes widened as he'd notice my bikini top raise slightly with my arm, exposing the tiniest bit of previously covered, blossoming flesh underneath as I reached for something in a high cupboard. He came over, a soft blush on his cheek bones, offering to help, standing much closer then necessary, his hip bone into my back. It was unsettling to be attracted to my best friend, yet at the same time it was the best thing in the world. But what if he wasn't crushing me the way I was crushing him? If we ever stepped over the line, there would be no going back. And, the possibility of ever losing Edward in my life? I wasn't sure that was something I could ever recover from. He was as much of my life as any other member of my family. I'd already lost my mother. I couldn't lose anyone else.
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"Isabella, truth or dare?" Jasper asked. "Dare," I said, twisting my hair. I had been playing it safe with only "truths" for the past week. "Hmmm," Jasper darted his eyes between me and his brother. "10 minutes in the closet with Edward," he nodded towards the walk-in linen closet in the pool house. I bit my lip and let out a long sigh, looking at Edward for a clue. He couldn't even look me in the eyes, but I did notice his cheeks were starting to flush. Alice was tipsy, as usual, and started clapping. "FINALLY! Get in there, Swan!" she practically yelled. Edward and I looked at each other, and he reached out for my hand. We stood up, holding hands, my heart racing as he led me towards the door. "The closet is over there, yo," Jasper said pointing in the other direction. "We're going into the house," Edward looked back with a smile. "Should we send a search party if you don't come back in ten?" Alice giggled, sipping more wine. "Don't bother," Edward said, gripping my hand tighter. We walked in silence into the house, up the stairs and right past my bedroom. He was heading for my parents room. Uh-oh. "Cullen, we can't" I tried to warn him. He put a finger up to my lips, "Shhh," he finger traced down my lips to my jaw. The smile on his face made my stomach do flip-flops. We found ourselves in my mother's closet which was more than a room then a closet. Edward knew I liked to spend time in there, in fact we'd spent many hours in there together; whispering and sharing dreams. My mother had been dead a few years, but my dad never touched her closet - everything was like it was the day she died. I walked over to her dressing table, nervous, and picked up a yellow canary
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diamond ring. It was five carats, at least, and shined brighter than anything I'd ever seen. "Can I see that?" Edward asked. I handed him the ring, stepping closer. He held his hand out for mine. I smiled and gave him my right hand. He brought the ring to his lips and kissed it lightly, smiling at me, before he placed the ring on my finger. My teenage mind went into overdrive. This was my best friend. But, he was more than a friend. He was like family. Our parents were best friends, we spend holidays together, we'd grown up together. I had such a crush on him, but the last thing I ever wanted to do was jeopardize our friendship. I didn't know if I could survive without him as my friend. It was a scary thing to be so young and hopelessly in love with your best friend. It was perfect and dreadful at once. But then, in a flash, our eyes meet and there was no going back. He held me in his arms for a long moment; my heart racing out of my chest. I saw a glint in his eye I'd never seen before; lust. I was only 13, I'd never seen a look of desire in someone elses eyes that was directed at me. That moment in time, the moment when you realize someone desires you for the first time, was so overwhelming. I was glad to share it with him. I trusted with my life. His hand went to the back of my neck and cupped it, tightly, drawing our faces closer. "I'm going to kiss you," he said, almost as a warning. "It's about time," I teased him. With any boy other than Edward, I might not have been so blunt; to say literally what I was thinking. But, I knew with him once we got to this point, we didn't need to play games with each other. We knew each other too well for that non-sense and on a certain level were already in love. I closed my eyes as he took my face in his hands. I could feel his breath on my lips, so close yet so far. The anticipation of his lips touching mine, for real, for the first time, almost too much to take. Lightly, his lips pressed to mine, unsure for a split second and then harder, passion running between us. I took in a deep breath, both from shock and to steady myself, trying to find a rhythm with our kiss. Our bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly, as our lips brushed against each other, hungry. It didn't last long, but it was the best real kiss I'd ever had. It was the only real kiss I'd ever had. At that moment in time, I believed it would be my last first kiss for the rest of my life. A/N You know who's awesome? Twanza3000 + Maxipoo1024, that's who. You girls. YOU GIRLS. Thank you for being bold enough to challenge me at just the
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right points. This story, these characters, are becoming my favorite thing I've ever written and part of that is because of you. /end gushing. Next update in 5 to 7 days? Yes, I think so. In the meantime, leave a note won't you? *The song referenced here is "You and Tequila" by Kenny Chesney & Grace Potter. If you haven't heard it, run over to YouTube. It's fantastic.

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Chapter 17

Ch. 17 - Awards Season BPOV "You look beautiful," Edward said, coming up behind me. I spit into the sink and rinsed out the tooth brush from the in-room toiletry kit, looking up at his reflection in the mirror. "I look like the morning after," I groaned, a wee bit hungover. We'd been up most of the night fucking and drinking. Edward would rather I say "making love", because "fucking" would be crass - I was a lady after all. But what we did that night in the hotel room would make the most proper of ladies blush with embarrassment...and then ask for more. EPOV Oh, we made love all night, that's for sure. Drunken, slow I-never-want-this-moment-to-end love. But, then I fucked her. I fucked her straight through til dawn. BPOV "You're still gorgeous," he kissed my shoulder, casually taking the toothbrush out of my hand, before swiftly applying a dob of toothpaste. I turned around and gave him the up down, because was naked and, well, a little excited. "You're objectifying me, Miss Swan," he teased. "Whoops!" I laughed, not taking my eyes off his twitching excitement. "Eyes up here, please," he used a finger to lift my chin. I bit my lip and tilted my head, just marveling in how handsome and charming and fascinating he'd become over the years. It wasn't hard to understand why so many girls had fallen prey to his charms.

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My cell phone interrupted our bathroom eye-fucking, which was good. He had a meeting to get to, and if we stood there much longer, I didn't think we would have left the room. "I have to get that, baby," I said, leaning back to pick up the phone. When Edward's warm lips pressed against my neck, my eyes started to roll back into my head. "Hello?" "Hey," Jacob said, calmly. Jacob? Why the fuck was he calling me? "Hey, yourself," I replied, pushing Edward off of me. "I have to take this, baby." It felt like I shouldn't be talking to Jacob so I walked away. I didn't care if he heard me call Edward "baby," but I felt guilty for slipping out of the room - purposely out of Edward's earshot. "Why are you calling me?" I asked quietly. "I have some things that need to be said, Isabella." His voice was different; an unsure tone that I'd never heard before. His usual bravado and testosterone were long gone. "I'm listening." "Not on the phone," he paused, "can you meet me at the Polo Lounge?" I checked my watch. Then I realized the watch had been a fucking gift from him. It was a gorgeous white quartz Chanel piece that I trashed as soon as I ended the phone call. The maid who found it later probably pawned it for more than her yearly salary. "I can meet you now," I started to say, "but only briefly, I'm busy today." "I'll be there in twenty." Such a classic, smarmy Los Angeles thing to say. You can be anywhere in L.A. in twenty minutes. "Okay." I threw the phone on the bed and called out to Edward, "I've got to go to a quick meeting, baby." He came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, but his morning wood was still evident. "I'll give you a ride," he offered with a wink.
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"No, it's okay, I'll get a cab," I knelt on the floor and pulled my shoes out from under the bed. "You have a meeting at the label this morning, right? That's in the other direction." "Well, give me a minute and I'll walk you downstairs." Somehow, before he finished his sentence, he was already putting on his wrinkled suit pants that had been discarded on the floor. Edward and I stood hand in hand while the valet guy whistled for a cab. The day was warm, but windy. The Santa Ana winds were kicking up again. My hair was blowing all over the place, and I was worried for a quick moment that this scene we might be causing - me holding hands with one of the most notorious rock stars around, obviously the morning after an all-nighter. It looked like the worst walk of shame in history. It wasn't even a walk of shame, it was put-the-girl-in-a-cab-of-shame. I giggled to myself, thinking in French it was la honte de ma vie. Which means "the shame of my life!" in slang. "What?" Edward asked. "Nothing," I whispered. I noticed his eyes square at something over my shoulder. When I turned I saw a huge billboard of Rose Hale being unfurled above our heads. Fucking Rose Hale. I couldn't put my finger exactly what it was about Rose, but she made me nervous. What Edward and I had felt real, like we were working our way back to where we'd been years ago. But I didn't like her on the sidelines. Seeing that enormous billboard looming over us seemed like a bad omen, and it made me very, very uncomfortable. I could deal with the Edward's past if I didn't have to put a face to it. But seeing her - seeing them sing together - was really difficult. It was going to be a fine line between understanding girlfriend and paranoid girlfriend dealing with her in our lives, I could tell. But, I told myself, he's with me right now, holding my hand. He spent the night with me, not her. We started this day together, and we'll end it the same way. Just like the days that laid ahead of us - together. I had the cab wait downstairs as I ran up to the apartment to change. I didn't need to be photographed the morning after in my outfit from the night before - the press was already after me as it was. No need to give them more to write about. Alice, sweet Alice, and her OCD tendencies, had left me a binder full of Polaroids with options like labeled "daytime press," "casual lunch," and "business meeting." Inside my closet, each ensemble was in a garment bag with a sheet attached that mirrored the ones in the binder. I grabbed one of the "casual lunch" outfits: Seven for Mankind jeans, a
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reconstructed vintage concert t-shirt and what appeared to be a British school-boy blazer. Somehow, finished off with a pair of faint pink, chambray-ish slip-on Vans, this look worked. I don't know how Alice managed it, but she turned me into a British school boy, and instead of looking like a bad Halloween costume, it looked pretty chic. Nestled with the Beverly Hills Hotel and Bungalows, the Polo Lounge was the very center of Old Hollywood. Dad used to take us there every Thursday for dinner. It was also a very obvious place to have a meeting. You didn't lunch at the Polo Lounge to go unseen - quite the opposite. I wasn't sure exactly what Jake's game was, but I didn't like it. "Miss Swan, so good to see you," the hostess greeted me. That's the funny thing about being famous everyone suddenly knows your name while you have no idea who they are. I spent half the time racking my brain trying to remember how I knew people who recognized me. I rarely did. "Isabella Swan!" I heard a man say, excitedly. I turned to see Jean-Pierre, the Polo Lounge manager, standing there. "Jean-Pierre? How long as it been?" I was happy see his familiar face. "A lifetime, it seems," he replied, wistfully. He was a tall, elderly man, who always looked his best in a crisp navy jacket with a small black pocket square. He smelled like peppermints, because he kept them in his pockets - easy to access as secret treats for kids of the rich and famous who dined at the Polo Lounge. "A lifetime," I agreed. The kid in me was tempted to slip a hand into his pocket and sneak a peppermint. "Come with me. Mr. Black is waiting for you. He asked for your father's table," he lowered his voice then, "but, I didn't think that was a good idea with the recent turn of events." Jean-Pierre was a wise, wise man. The last thing you wanted to do in Los Angeles was piss off my father. "Good." I smiled at Jean-Pierre knowingly. Jacob tried to greet me with a hug, but I did not hug him in return; "He wrapped both arms around me, and though his embrace had once felt safe, it didn't feel that way any more." Our time - the time when there was an "us" - was over. Typical Jacob, he shrugged off my lack of responsiveness as if nothing happened. He had already ordered a lemonade and Cobb salad for me. That he made the
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assumption that he could order for me, that we were still intimate enough for something like that, was out of line and frankly, creepy. The night before when Edward ordered my burger at the Chateau, it was comforting and familiar. This was controlling. The realization that my entire relationship with Jake was forced was never more evident until that moment. His presumptuous gesture was like a metaphor for the control he'd always tried to exercise over me. Well, no more. "What did you want to talk about, Jake?" I asked, pushing the salad away. I wasn't there to eat a meal with him. "I just wanted the chance to make sure we were okay," he smiled. Was he fucking kidding? There was no "we" in this situation. If my life was a cartoon, my head would have exploded into a million smokey pieces at that moment. I really didn't want to make a scene, so I tried to remain calm. "I think you pretty much made sure we weren't okay, Jake." "You know I can be reckless," he looked down, trying to play innocent. There was a time when that tactic would have worked with me, but those days were gone now. I wanted to offer an olive branch and be the bigger person. "Look, we're in the same town and in the same business. Let's just be civil. Can we do that?" "Yes," he said and kissed my hand. I instantly pulled away. "Don't be like that," he whined. "I said I'd be civil," I smiled through my teeth, looking around to see if anyone saw us together. This was L.A. after all, one huge interconnected clusterfuck. "Don't look so paranoid, Isabella," he chastised. "There's no press here." "There better not be, asshole, or I'll rip you limb from limb myself and then give your parts to my father for disposal." I felt emboldened to stand up for myself. I got up and walked away from the table, with nary a look back. "Good to see you, Jean-Pierre," I said as I past the hostess stand, not breaking my stride. "And you, Miss Swan. We're rooting for you on Oscar night!" he called after me.
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Jessica and Mike insisted on going with Edward and me to Riley's premiere since it was our first official time on the red carpet as a couple. It all seemed very surreal. Sitting in the back of the chauffeur-driven Excursion, we looked like two young couples on a double date. And, in a strange way, walking this red carpet together was a date. It just happened to be public and live-streamed on the Internet while swarmed with paparazzi. The crush of photographers and journalists started the second the car door opened. "Isabella! Over here!" "Kiss her already!" "Isabella, to your left! Look left." The cameras fired off at a dizzying rate, and I literally had to grasp onto the back on Edward's jacket with my fist to stand up. The flashes were blinding. "Just follow me," Jessica reassured me as she stepped in front of us. Mike stood off to Edward's side, surveying the crowd. The entire scene was much, much more than I expected. "You look stunning, baby," Edward whispered in my ear. The Marc Jacobs dress Alice put me in was perfect - simple and sexy, not too dressy. I felt good in it - and with Edward at my side. We felt like a team. "I'll talk to whomever you want me to talk to. I'm here to help Riley," I offered to Jessica, and reached for Edward's hand. "Okay, let's go," she said, walking towards the first journalist. People kept shouting my name and Edward's, as well as random questions. It was all very, very overwhelming. This was only a mid-week movie premiere - what were the Oscar's going to be like? I'd been to this event once, as a teenager with my father, but I'd never attended as a nominee. I was suddenly very scared of the next five weeks and all that was expected of me. "This is Tom Danbury with Channel 5," Jessica introduced us. Each question he asked was about Edward or the Oscars, and I tried to be as charming as possible while constantly trying to bring the subject back to Riley. Jess introduced me to the next person in the media line. "This is Mario Lopez, Access Hollywood."
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"Hi," I smiled, shaking his hand. "We're surprised to see you here tonight, Isabella," Mario smirked. Why was he looking at me like that? "Why? I'm here to support my friend and his film," I replied, suddenly feeling unsteady in my four-inch heels. "Well, there was a story out this afternoon and some photos" What the hell was he talking about? I looked at Jessica for help and could see the panic in her face. Even she didn't know what he was talking about. "Excuse me?" I said, my voice raising an octave or five. Mario showed me his phone, which was already open to the TMZ app with the headline: "Swan Caught Canoodling With Ex. Where's Edward?" I gasped and paled simultaneously. Edward leaned over my shoulder, and I watched his face turn red. His hand gripped mine so tightly it hurt. I looked over at Jessica, furious that she didn't know about this. A publicist's job was, at its core, to protect your image at every turn and to stay ahead of the pack. I felt like the pack was about to eat me alive. "You're done, Mario," Jessica snapped at him and pulled me away by the hand. She quickly escorted us past the rest of the journalists and into the lobby of the theater. Edward was already reading the story from his phone, aloud: Swan Caught Canoodling with Ex, Where's Edward? Oscar-hottie Isabella Swan was seen earlier today having what appeared to be an early romantic lunch with ex-boyfriend Jake Black. The two were spotted sitting near Charlie Swan's favorite table at Beverly Hills hangout The Polo Lounge. The couple had a quiet lunch alone, and Jake was spotted checking into the hotel minutes after Isabella excused herself from the table. You can't fool us, kids. Wonder what the ex-she-left-her-ex-for will think? Especially since she was spotted checking out of Chateau Marmont with him just this morning. Looks like our Oscar girl likes to keep her men at opposite ends of the Sunset Strip. EPOV My voice faltered as I read to the "ex-she-left-her-ex-for" line and my heart
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plummeted from my chest. I knew she didn't know how to handle tabloid media and was going to have a very hard time dealing with this. They'd rip her apart, detail by tiny detail, given the chance. They'd been chasing me for years; I finally gave up trying to avoid them. That was one mistake in a line of many I'd made over the years, because now there was a long trail of evidence of my "salacious rockstar lifestyle." "What is this, Swan?" I pushed my iPhone in her face; they'd run a picture of her and that weasle. His arms wrapped around her small body in a tight embrace. The thought of him holding her, sharing one ounce of intimacy with her, tore my soul in half. "He called me and asked to see me," she said, scrunching her my nose. "You met him at A FUCKING HOTEL?" I didn't normally raise my voice to her, but I couldn't help myself. I was usually so relaxed and the master of the what-the-fuck attitude, but seeing him with her - and knowing they were at a hotel together - was confusing. My mind was in overdrive. How could she go from being in a hotel room with me, where we'd made love all night, to rushing off to be with him? Part of me, deep down, knew I deserved this. I deserved her to dish to me what I'd given to all those girls for years. I deserved to be humiliated and have my heart broken. Hell, I already was broken. The ten years apart broke me. Just when I thought we were getting it back together... "Keep your voice down," she pleaded, grabbing my suited arm. "Come here." Her eyes were desperate for understanding, washed with sadness. "You went to a hotel with Jake Black?" I whispered forcefully, my body tensing up. I needed her to tell me what was happening. I needed details. "He wanted to see me," she started to say, hyper-aware that everyone in the lobby was staring at us. "So I went to talk to him, but and it was pointless. He obviously set me up to get that picture." He wanted to see her so she ran off to him, just like that? My anger started to grow, a rage deep within coming up. I'm going to kill that little motherfucker...he cannot have my girl. This girl has been my life for my entire life, and I will not let her slip away again. "Edward," she said, slipping my fingers down to my wrist. She pressed her fingertips to my swan tattoo as if she were taking my pulse, in a way to remind me that she was always right there. It was subtle, but understood. "If you don't trust meif you don't trust us, me and you..." she whispered, ever so slightly circling circled her fingertips on the inside of my wrist again. "This is Jake being a self-serving jerk...nothing more."
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"Why didn't you tell me you were going to see him?" I asked. "Because I was sure your reaction would be something like this. It was stupid, and I should have known he was up to something." She looked down, embarrassed by what she had done. I could tell she knew going to see him was a mistake. She was a good person, a bigger person than him obviously. "You've got to know he's nothing to me. You," she looked back up at me, blinking wildly, and smiled, "are the only man I want. You." "That fucking little agent motherfucker," I mumbled after a long pause, processing her words, upset at myself for doubting her for one nano-second. I'll never forget the first time she told me she loved me, her next words were "...don't ever doubt that." How could I doubt her? When she loved, it was wholly and forever. She didn't play with emotions, she honored them. It was my job to be worthy of her and those emotions. I had quite a job ahead of me. "He's nothing to me," she repeated, holding back tears. She wasn't trying to intentionally hurt me, she could never be that devious. Jake had set up the situation to get me to doubt her...to provoke a fight. If we fought, I bet he hoped, maybe she's come running back to him for comfort? No fucking way. This girl wasn't going anywhere. "I'm an asshole. My reaction is about him, not you," I kissed her passionately, without hesitation. "We jump together," I whispered so only she could hear me, my lips moving up to place a soft kiss on her temple. She let out a relieved sigh and whispered back to me, "Don't ever doubt." I held her close, reassuring her it was okay. I don't know what it was about Jake Black, but he brought out the worst in me. Truth was that little scum wasn't worth the dirt under my boots. I had his girl, and Charlie ended his career. The kid was yesterday's news. We both looked around for Jessica who was scrolling through something on her iPhone, giving us a moment to ourselves. "Okay." She had a serious tone, slipping her phone back into her vintage clutch. "You're Charlie Swan's daughter. Don't you EVER forget that. What would Charlie do?" Wow, she had a good point. Charlie wouldn't run. He certainly wouldn't take this bullshit and just say, "No comment." He'd stand up for himself and take charge. Charlie always took charge. Isabella and I exchanged a look - I'm sure we'd been thinking the same thing.
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"I'm Charlie Swan's daughter," Isabella repeated, and for some reason she got a little emotion. It was powerful, the way she'd said it: "You're Charlie Swan's daughter." "Okay, we'll do the red carpet again," Isabella sounded triumphant, more confident than ever. She reached for my hand, interlacing our fingers together slowly. Jake wasn't going to win this one - his actions wouldn't have her cowering in a corner or hiding behind "no comment." She was going to deal with this once and for all. "Are you sure?" Jessica sounded surprised. "I'm sure," Isabella beamed. Jake could try to plant all the fake stories he wanted, we knew the truth. The truth was no one, nothing, could ever get between us again. BPOV "Do you want to comment on the TMZ report that came out today?" Mario asked me, camera in my face. "I don't comment on my personal life, but as you can see I'm here with my boyfriend." I pointed to Edward who was standing a few feet away. "So the story is untrue?" he pushed, seeking a juicy quote. "Jake Black set me up and planted that story for reasons I do not understand. You want a sound bite about that?" I asked, bating him, because we both knew what he wanted. "Yes." "He asked me to meet him at the Polo Lounge for an early lunch. Which I did. Yes, the Polo Lounge happens to be inside a hotel. Was I meeting him for an afternoon tryst? No. Why not? Because Jake Black has a small dick and was the worst lover I've ever had." I said it so sweetly and without hesitation, that it took Mario a second to process exactly what I'd just said. I'd just handed him a verbal goldmine of a quote. It would get picked up everywhere, and I knew it. Jessica had to hold back a snicker. "Uh..." Poor Mario was stunned. It was fun to shock the press. Sometimes. "That's my comment." If he wanted a war of the fucking roses in the press, he'd get it. Game on, asshole.
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A/N - Thanks everyone for your patience with this chapter, I know it's been awhile coming. I hope it was worth the wait! As always, love to hear your feedback about our dear, sweet Rockerward. xx

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