Good gracious. I am so sorry for the long wait. January has been kicking my ass, so I'm hoping February will be better.

Anyway! I finally got around to finishing this chapter. It kept nagging at me to finish it, and I just couldn't find the time, and when I did, I couldn't think of what to write. It was awful, really.

This chapter is a bit of a filler, but I'm gonna pick up on some plot again after this chapter. Things will get moving along, I promise.

See you at the bottom!

Chapter Eleven

R U Mine?

After the ceremony, Alice comes with me to a park that Tanya wants to have her wedding party photos taken. We drive behind the limo that is transporting all the people in the wedding. It's only about a fifteen minute drive from the chapel and I know the reception location is nearby. The sun has completely set at this point, and at the beginning of November, the temperature has dropped considerably. Luckily, I can wear my peacoat while I'm outside, but the wedding party is not so fortunate, so I plan to make this as quick as possible.

"Did you know Edward was going to be there?" I ask Alice as we pull away from the church.

She shakes her head as she checks her makeup in the visor mirror. "No. Rose said he was doing something today, but she didn't say what. I was just as surprised as you were when I walked in there and saw him sitting there. Although, I wasn't a weirdo and snapped his picture." She gives me a pointed look, but it's teasing, so I flip her off.

"I couldn't help it," I admit. "I didn't even really realize I was doing it. He just looked so fucking good sitting up there in that damn suit. And I've never seen him play before. I've never even heard him play anything beside that guitar."

"He is really talented. I looked up the sheet music for the song he was playing. It's fucking crazy. And his fingers were moving so fast, but he looked so relaxed."

"He has a recital in December. I'm thinking of going," I tell her, remembering the conversation I had with Angela at the Halloween party before I started to get hammered.

"Has he asked you to go?"

"No, he hasn't even mentioned it to me. But I'm sure Rose is going, so I'm just gonna go with her." I shrug. I don't think it's that big of a deal.

"Bella," she says, apparently exasperated.

"What?"

"You can't just go to his programs. If he doesn't mention it to you, then it's probably for a reason." What the fuck is she on about?

"Or he's Edward and doesn't think about those types of things. We're adults, Al. I'd really hope a twenty-one year old guy doesn't play shit like that anymore."

I see the pointed look she gives me out of the corner of my eye. "This is the boy that jerked you around for two months because he couldn't come to terms with his feelings."

I mean, she has a point. But I've gotten to know Edward a lot better since then. I don't think he'd intentionally not invite me to his recital. Maybe he just has a thing about people watching him perform. I hadn't even known he played anything other than the guitar until a couple weeks ago.

The discussion I have with Alice doesn't even matter, though, because that Monday, in my photography class, my teacher pulls me aside and gives me some news.

"Bella, can I talk with you real quick?" Maggie asks. She's pretty young and pretty much ordered us the first day of class to never call her Professor or her last name. She's probably only twenty-seven years old, so I can see why the title thing bugs her, but I just find it so amusing that she's so adamant about just being called Maggie.

"Sure, what's up?" Class has just been dismissed, and I'm still packing up my stuff, so I continue while she speaks to me.

She grabs a black portfolio off her desk and opens it up. A quick glance tells me it's mine that I gave to her at the beginning of the semester as an assignment in the class.

"You're a really fantastic photographer, Bella," she compliments, smiling. I thank her. "So, when the school newspaper told me they were looking for a new photographer to cover some events, since one of theirs is graduating early this semester, I told them I think you'd be great for the job."

I'm surprised by this. "Me? This is an intro class. There have to be people in other classes that have more experience than I do."

"I'm sure there are, and they're good, but you're better," she says frankly, and I'm a little shocked at her candor. "Those other kids are good because they've taught themselves and learned to be good. But you're good because you have a natural talent that you've built upon, and it shows. I've never seen an incoming freshman with such an incredible portfolio. I'd be concerned that you took them from someone else, but I've seen you in action. It's incredible, Bell."

I can feel myself blushing at her praise. No matter how used I've gotten to compliments and accepting them graciously, her comments are almost reverent, and I don't know how to respond. "Well...thank you."

"So, if you'll do it, the newspaper wants you to cover some events in the rest of November and December just to get your feet wet a little before the position needs to be completely filled next semester."

I'm not dumb enough to turn down the experience, both journalistic and photographic, that working on the school newspaper will be, so I tell her I'll do it.

She beams. "Great. Swim is in season right now, so they want you to cover the next home meet, which is the weekend after we get back from Thanksgiving, and then the winter music recital the weekend before we go on break."

I smile, finally. "Great, no problem."

}ACH{

November 17th, 2015

1:25pm

It's only a week before Thanksgiving break, and I have a research assignment due the Wednesday before we're off in my literature class. Unfortunately, it's an individual paper, so I don't have the pleasure of dragging Rose with me into the incredibly fascinating world of A Wide Sargasso Sea (note the sarcasm). I absolutely love Jane Eyre, and I would never choose Bertha over the love between Jane and Mr. Rochester, but the assignment is to discuss the prejudices exhibited toward the English and the Creole people, and I hate myself for even pretending to have sympathy for Antoinette. I know I probably should, and I get the subjects Jean Rhys is trying to discuss, I just am not a fan of the book.

So, here I am, tearing my hair out in the library, all by myself because both Alice and Rose are in class, and they'd probably just end up distracting me anyway. I want to get this stupid paper done sooner rather than later so that I can actually look forward to my break instead of worrying about getting this assignment done in time. I want nothing more than to head back to my dorm and take a nap or watch my shows for hours, but I am determined to get ahead of this thing so that Alice and I can have a relaxing weekend.

Rose informed us earlier in the week that her parents have invited Alice and me to their house for Thanksgiving, since there's no way that we're making it back to Washington for a four day weekend. We have the money saved up to catch a plane for the long weekend, but both our parents understand that it's too close to finals for the impromptu visit. We have every intention of heading back to Forks for the two weeks we get off for Christmas, so there's really only about three weeks until we'll be back home, anyway.

When I told Charlie that the Cullens had invited us to stay, he thought it was a great idea and was glad that I found a friend in Rose. I did not mention, however, that I was particularly fond of her older brother, who will also be at Thanksgiving. Charlie doesn't need to know about the Edward thing yet, so I just left him out of our conversation, except to say that he'd be there because he's related to Rose, but I had mentioned Emmett in the same breath. Charlie seemed none the wiser, as I intended. Edward and I aren't dating or anything, so I don't think it's necessary to say anything more about him, aside from him being Rose's brother. If things progress past our blossoming friendship, I'll tell Charlie about him. But that seems to be far off, at the moment.

I'm in the middle of writing a bullshit paragraph, complete with outstanding sources, about the prejudice against and between the Creoles and British in the time period, when a body slides into the booth I'm at, startling me. I've had my earbuds in, listening to classical music to help me focus, so I haven't been paying any attention to the goings on in the library. People are milling about and talking quietly, typing up essays or studying for tests and finals, I'm sure. I've been wrapped in my own bubble, silently grumbling about this stupid analytical essay and trying to sooth myself with the sounds of Mozart and Bach and Beethoven. I jump a little as the person saddles up to me.

I pull one earbud out and turn to scowl at him, even though his signature little smirk is on his face, making my stomach flutter pleasantly. I'm a little peeved that he startled me and more than a little curious as to how he found me in this deserted back corner on the second floor of the library, but I can't deny that I'm happy to see him. Things have been a little more busy than usual for the both of us with the holiday coming up, so the only time we really see each other is at the shop, but even that's busy, so we never get to do more than say hello and make small talk as he's with a client. The last time I had him to myself was Friday of last week, when Rose and Em went out on a date and Alice was at Jasper's. We spent our usual night of watching Jeopardy! and eating Thai takeout from a few blocks over. It was nice, and I was definitely missing it amidst our busy schedules.

"You kinda scared the shit out of me, Edward," I chastise, making sure to keep my voice down. There's no one at the other tables around me, but I'm near the balcony that looks over onto the first floor, and I don't want to disturb the people down there.

"Sorry. I didn't realize you were so absorbed in…" he trails off, glancing at my paper open on my computer screen, "an essay about racism and your music. What are you listening to, anyway?"

He's become more bold in asking questions and teasing me in the weeks that we've spent together, and I'm happy for the change. The weird tension that always surrounded us prior to Halloween was finally gone, and I'm glad we can talk to each other like friends. We spend a bit more time together than casual friends would, though, and I'm happy for that, too. I was serious when I told him that I liked him, even the hard, asshole side of him. In the last few weeks, I've been honored with glimpses at the real him, though, and I'm enjoying it.

The real Edward is kind-hearted, caring, and playful. We're constantly joking around and teasing each other when we're together, and he's smiled more in the last few weeks than I have ever seen before. He's constantly asking to make sure I'm comfortable and for my opinion. He listens when I tell him without interrupting or making me feel slighted or dumb. I've heard stories, too, about his childhood and growing up the way he has. He's a mama's boy, through and through, and I think it's the most endearing thing in the world. He and his dad have a good relationship, too, and he apparently seriously debated becoming a doctor as well, but both his parents encouraged him to follow his dreams in music. And, despite their bickering and teasing, he loves Rosalie like any good big brother, and he even confessed his original apprehension toward Em dating her, even though he'd already known him before they started dating.

Mischievous Edward is still always present though. Those leering looks I had garnered when we first met each other still make an appearance every once in awhile, even though I think he tries to reign them in so he doesn't make them uncomfortable. I reciprocate the looks, though, which he finds amusing. Behind the mirth in his eyes when he catches me ogling him is always a bit of lust, though. There's always an obvious air of sexual tension between us, because we both know we want more of each other than this platonic friendship we're developing. But, we both are aware that we can't just jump into anything. I think it means a lot to both of us that we learn about each other without sex clouding everything.

"Clair de Lune," I admit, flipping to the tab I have open on Pandora. Edward leans closer to me to see the piece, and I can smell the fresh cigarette smoke. We're technically not allowed to smoke on campus, except for in the designated areas posted near the parking lots. I'm sure Edward has a pension for not following those rules, though.

"This is the first Debussy piece I learned to play," he tells me, speaking so close to my ear that I can feel his breath fan against it and my neck. I shiver, and I can tell he notices, because that knowing little smirk is back on his face. I hold back the eye roll that wants to break free.

"What was the first classical piece you learned?" I ask. Edward has told me a little about his music, like how he started piano at four and soon progressed to other instruments, and how his mother was his first piano teacher, but he surpassed her by the fifth grade, so they had to hire someone from the university. He didn't pick up the drums and guitar until he was in middle school, but he learned to play the violin before he finished the third grade. He tried the cello when he got to high school, but it isn't his favorite, so he doesn't play often.

"Für Elise," he says, shrugging, like that's the easiest thing in the world to play. "I think that's just about every pianist's first classical piece."

I just gape. "How old were you?"

He furrows his brow in thought. "Five, I think? Maybe six. I was in kindergarten. I could finally reach all the keys. My hands were too little before that." He's some type of fucking child prodigy, and he just shrugs it off like it's nothing. He should probably be playing for some type of symphony at this point.

I shake my head and huff out a disbelieving laugh. "Jesus, Edward."

"What?"

"Nothing," I assure, still smiling. "What's your favorite to play?"

He grins. "Flight of the Bumblebee."

I stare at him strangely. "What the hell? Don't middle schoolers learn to play that in band?"

"Maybe the modified sheet music, but not the original." He proceeds to pull up a YouTube video of an Asian woman playing at some type of show, and all I can do is stare dumbfounded at how quickly and effortlessly her fingers seem to fly across the keys. They're moving so fast, they just look like blurs, and I can't even really keep track of where her hands are even at on the keys. Then he shows me a video of a little boy, no more than six, playing and I just about lose it in the fucking library.

"Jesus Christ," I chuckle when the video is over. "When did you learn to do that?"

"I think I was eight or nine. So, definitely older than this kid, but Mom was impressed." He beams a goofy grin at me, one I see a lot more often now, especially when we're bickering and talking about how we were as children. It's part of the real Edward that I'm certainly glad I get to see pretty regularly.

I let out a soft laugh, still trying to keep my voice down. I suddenly remember the conversation I had with my photography teacher. I had taken the photos at the swim meet this past weekend, where I was really unsure of what was going on. I have never seen a swim meet before in my life, so I have absolutely no idea how scoring works. All I had to do was show up and take photos and give them to the newspaper. But I haven't told Edward about the other assignments they're giving me.

"Oh, hey. You know how I was telling you about being hired onto the school newspaper to take photos?" I ask, closing my laptop. I'm not getting anymore of my essay written right now, and I'm not really lamenting over that fact. I'll just do it later.

Edward nods. "Yeah, you went to the swim meet. How was that, but the way?"

I shrug. "Cold and wet and way too many half-naked people walking around in forty degree weather. I got cold just looking at them." Our school doesn't have an indoor pool, and I felt so bad for all the swimmers the entire time I was there.

"You can't tell me you didn't enjoy watching all those very fit guys walking around in Speedos and tech suits," he jokes, his tongue ring clicking against the back of his teeth as he smirks.

I shake my head. "I really didn't. None of them had t-" I cut myself off, realizing how mortifying it would be if I admit what I was just about to say. Edward doesn't need to know about my preferences toward the male body-or that my preferences are essentially him. I mean, he obviously knows I'm into him, but he most definitely doesn't need to know that seeing his bare chest that one time at the pool sends me into some sort of horny puddle of mess every time I think about it.

His pierced eyebrow twitches up into a question. "None of them had what? I know they all have abs, so that can't be what you're complaining about."

The blush is working up my face, and I know he can see it when he smirks a little. Damn him. "No, they're bodies are fine. I just...have certain preferences that none of them had." If Alice were here, she'd know right away what I was talking about. I had told her exactly what they were all lacking as soon as I got back from the meet, and she just nodded knowingly.

"And what are your preferences, Bella?" he asks, his voice husky, and he's slid just a little bit closer to me, his body nearly flush with mine. His fingers play with a strand of my hair that's around my shoulders, something I've noticed he does often when he flirts with me. He's trying to get to me, but I'm not going to let him.

I push down my embarrassment at having this conversation with him. I'm hoping my bluntness knocks of his cocky flirting. I like to see that certain version of his smirk fall from his face. I've done it a few times, and I'm hoping this will add another time to that list.

I swallow as I turn to look at him, dispelling the last of my nerves about being so close to him and admitting a very large part of my attraction to him.

"I like guys with nice bodies and tattoos. And piercings. None of the swim guys fit that criteria." I just shrug and open my laptop back up, like I'm not affected by how close he is or that I basically just told him that he is who I'm referring to. I just turn back to the tab with my essay, and read over the last few sentences I wrote, trying to reorient myself to what I've been saying.

Edward clears his throat beside me. "Well, alright then," he says after a moment, and I purse my lips together to prevent the smirk from pulling at my lips. "I'm gonna head to the shop. Would you like to come with me or should I leave you to your essay?"

I turn and smile at him. "Nah, I'll come with you. I can think of more paragraphs to bullshit while I'm working." I close my laptop, disconnect my earbuds, stuff my computer, papers, and notebooks back into my backpack and stand from the booth with Edward.

He stands back and motions for me to go ahead of him, so I sling my bag onto my shoulder and walk past him, toward the staircase at the other end of the floor. Before I can make it very far, though, I feel his hand wrap around my wrist and stop me. He pulls me gently so that we're face to face, our chest nearly touching.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?" I breathe, overwhelmed by his proximity and his scent. And the fact that he's just used my actual name. He's taken to using it more while we're alone together, but both him and Emmett still call me JB when we're all together, which is annoying, but I just let it slide. Em does it to bug the shit out of me, and Edward does it to maintain normalcy within the group. I just take it in strides.

Edward hesitates for a moment, just looking down at me. His lips are slightly pursed, and I can hear the faint sound of his tongue ring clicking against the backs of his teeth, something he does when he's in thought. His eyes are trained somewhere on my forehead, but it's like he's looking through me more than actually at me. Finally he blinks, and his eyes drift down to meet my own.

He shakes his head. "Nevermind. Let's go."

I give him a strange look, though, it's too his back, since he's now walking a few strides in front of me. "Okay?" I'll get it out of him some other time, I guess.

}ACH{

November 22, 2015

2:23 pm

"Esme, do you need help with anything?" I ask as I return back to the kitchen after dropping off my bag into the guest room I've claimed as my own. The Cullens seem to have acknowledged it too, since as soon as we walk into the house, both Esme and Carlisle have been calling them 'your guys's rooms' to Alice and me. From what Rose has said, I wouldn't be surprised if those rooms are decorated to our tastes the next time we come to visit.

"Oh, no, honey. Thank you, though. I'm just waiting for everything to come out of the oven," she smiles. Esme has a set of double ovens that I definitely want in my own kitchen one day. They're easily handling all the dishes I know she's preparing for the holiday in one go. This large of a dinner would have taken me two days to cook in my oven back in Forks. Esme is doing it in a matter of hours.

"Are you sure?" I ask.

She comes over and pats my hand that's resting on the counter. "I'm sure, Bella. The rest of them are downstairs with the fire going. Go join them. Carlisle's and my parents will be here soon. Just relax until dinner is ready."

I nod and head down the flight of stairs into the living room. The big fireplace against the far wall is blazing. The temperature has dropped unexpectedly in Boston in the last few days, so the fire is necessary, especially in this large open room. It's only got up into the low forties the last few days, and today isn't going much differently. There's dark clouds outside, and there's a threat of rain, but the possibility of snow is low.

All four of them are huddled around the fire, the furniture in the room reoriented to face the fireplace. Rose and Emmett are in one chair, Rose in Em's lap, cuddled up under a blanket. Alice is in the other chair, foregoing the blanket, instead huddled in her oversized sweater and fuzzy socks. She's giggling at something Emmett has just said, which has earned him a thump to the shoulder from Rose. Edward is chuckling as well, sitting in the loveseat with what looks like a handmade crocheted grey blanket tucked in around his legs. He looks so relaxed and cozy in front of the fire with our friends and his family, making me want to cuddle up next to him. I'll have to sit next to him on the loveseat, since it's the only space left, but I'll have to keep a decent distance between us.

My socked feet don't make any sound on the hardwood floor, but Alice looks up at me just as I make it to the landing. She smiles and waves me over, causing the rest of them to look over their shoulders.
"JB, come join the party. Get cozy. The rest of this house is too fucking cold. We're cuddling for warmth like penguins," Em says, giving me a cheesy grin.

"Alice and Edward aren't cuddling for warmth. That just seems to be you and Rose," I tell him, making my way over to them. I take my seat next to Edward and give him a small smile. The heat from the fire is welcoming and making me a little drowsy.

"That's because Alice is peppy enough to keep herself warm," Em says, like it's very obvious.

Alice beams at him.

"So what's Edward's excuse?" I wonder.

"Edward's just not a cuddler," Rose inputs.

"Oh, really?" I wonder aloud. He seemed like a cuddler to me when I woke up with him wrapped around me the morning after Halloween.

"Just because I don't want to cuddle any of you doesn't mean I'm not a cuddler," Edward argues. That's what I thought.

Everyone quiets down for a few moments, in which I just stare at the fire and reflect on all that I have to do still before the end of the semester. The paper I wrote for English is supposed to be graded by the time we get back from our long weekend, and both Rose and I are anxious to get our scores back. This is our last major grade in the class, aside from the reflective essay due at the end of the semester as our final. On top of writing another essay, I have my final portfolio due in photography, which I haven't even begun to put together or come up with ideas. There's also my damn math final, which I'm not looking forward to, at all. Math is easy; I just don't feel like being forced to take a two hour long math test on my last day in Boston before I head back to Forks for the break.

Amidst my scowling at all the things I have to do in the three weeks before the end of the semester, I suddenly feel a stare penetrating the left side of my face. Rose and Emmett are busy laughing at something on Emmett's phone and Alice is scrolling through her own phone on my right, so that only leaves Edward. I shiver at the knowledge that he's just looking at me, even though I can't see the expression on his face. I know for sure that he's not scowling, as he so often used to do, but other than that, I can't deduce what look he's giving me without looking over at him. While everyone else, aside from maybe Edward's parents, knows that Edward and I are no longer hostile toward each other and are building a tentative relationship, we've never made it very obvious in public or around anyone else.

So, when Edward grabs the edge of the blanket that's been tucked under his leg and extends it over my lap and drapes it over my feet I'm a little shocked. I finally glance over at him, finally, and find him giving me the tiniest of smirks. I raise my eyebrow at him and look between him and the blanket now on both of our laps, and back to him pointedly.

He leans into me and puts his mouth to my ear. "You shivered. I figured you were cold." I'd think he was just being kind, but when he pulls back, the look on his face tells me he knows exactly why I was shivering. We're sitting in front of a blazing fire; I'm obviously not cold. The feeling of his gaze on me is almost tangible, like it's his skin against mine. The quirk of his pierced brow is like a challenge, daring me to tell him I'm not cold.

I'm not about to do that in the same room as our friends, so I just nod and say, "Thank you."

His smirk is full blown now, and when I look away from him, I see that Rose and Alice have taken notice to our little exchange, glancing between me and each other with wicked little smiles on their faces, like they know something that I don't.

I don't get a chance to make a remark about their silent exchange, because the doorbell rings three times in succession, like an annoying kid trying to ding-dong ditch. I look up the stairs curiously, seeing how Esme's going to deal with this. But, when the door is opened a moment later, there is a flurry of activity and voices that I've never heard before. When I look back at Edward and Rose questioningly, they have matching grins on their faces, making them look way too much like each other in that moment.

"What is that?" Alice asks. There's a squeal then, and Alice startles. "Jesus, I thought I was excitable and loud."

"That would be our Nana Charlotte," Rose says.

There's a booming laugh a split second later.

"And that would be our grandfather, Peter," Edward adds.

"Pete's here? Yes!" Emmett fist pumps, nearly knocking Rose off his lap.

"Emmett and Pops have a weird bromace," Rose explains, rolling her eyes. "Edward was his favorite grandson until I brought Em around."

"Why do Em and your grandfather have a bromance?" Alice asks, scrunching her nose up. The thought of a twenty-something and an elderly man having a friendship seems weird to her, and I suddenly remember that she doesn't have any grandparents of her own.

"And why was Edward kicked off his pedestal?" I ask, snickering at the annoyed look Edward shoots me.

"You'll see," is all Rose says.

Just then, there's a set of heavy boots and the clatters of heels walking down the flight of stairs that leads into the living room. Those stylish grey booties and black Doc Martens are the first thing I see, followed by much too stylish clothing for a set of assumingly sixty-somethings. The rest of their bodies emerge then, and I am all too aware of why Emmett would have such a good relationship with this man.

The person that I first assumed was elderly is anything but. I mean, yeah, he's obviously in his early sixties, from the complete white of his hair and the wrinkles in the normal places on his face, but, aside from that, I'd have no idea that this man was a grandfather if I just glanced at him in the streets.

Peter is the hottest grandfather I have ever had the privilege of laying my eyes on, and I see the origin of the Cullen children's good genes. Peter is about six-foot-three, with sparkling blue eyes, perfectly styled white hair that I'm pretty sure was platinum blond at some point in his life. He's got a lean build and wide shoulders, accented by the black button down that's pulling across his chest much like Edward's clothes pull across his. He's also got a very impressive beard that I'm jealous of, and I'm a woman. The most shocking-but also something that I should have seen coming-thing about Peter is the tattoos I can see peeking out behind the collar and sleeves of his shirt and on his neck. He is the epitome of a 'Cool Grandpa'.

Nana Charlotte is just as stylish and good looking as her husband. She's tall, as well, several inches taller than me. Her hair is light brown, with just the right amount of grey in it to make her look sophisticated. Her features are strikingly similar to Rosalie's, with her button nose and full pink lips. She's still slim and looks like she keeps in shape, if the way her sweater dress hugs her figure is any indication. She doesn't seem to have the same affinity for tattoos as her husband, though.

I don't know what I was expecting Rose and Edward's grandparents to look like, but it is definitely not this. Though, I should have expected such great looking people given the way the rest of the this family looks.

"Pete!" Em shouts, actually pushing Rosalie off his lap this time. She gives him an annoyed look, but it softens into a smile as Em gets up and hugs her grandfather.

Peter greets Emmett just as enthusiastically, and in a matter of seconds, they're absorbed in some conversation I can't even keep up with, so I tune them out. Charlotte ignores them as well, and steps forward to hug Rose.

"Oh, honey, it's good to see you again. I haven't seen you since your mother's birthday," she says, and her voice sounds quite a bit like Rosalie's, too. Seeing them so close together is a little bit of a trip.

"It's good to see you, too, Nana," Rose says. "I'm sorry. I'd visit more, but school's been a little crazy."
Charlotte waves her hand to brush away the words. "Girly, I know what it's like. Just drop by whenever you get a chance."

"Nana and Pops live about twenty minutes from the school," Edward explains to me. "We try to visit, but we kinda lose track of things while we're at school."

"Eddie, stand up and hug me," Charlotte demands. I try to contain my giggle at the admonishment, but Charlotte hears me and winks at me over Edward's shoulder when they hug.

"And who are these beautiful young ladies?" she asks, lightly shoving Edward away. He chuckles and shakes his head at his grandmother.

"Nana, these are my friends, Bella Swan and Alice Brandon. They're from Washington state," Rose introduces.

"Come here, girls. I'm a hugger," Charlotte says. Alice and I chuckle and get up to hug Charlotte at the same time. "I'm glad Rosie has some girls in her life, now. I mean, Emmett is great, but I need more estrogen when I visit."

Rose rolls her eyes. "Why does everyone think I'm incapable of having female friends?"

"Because all the friends you had all through school were boys," Edward interjects.

"I think that's because they were the only people Rose could get to do anything she wanted," Peter suddenly says, coming into our little circle of conversation with Emmett. They seem to have been able to tear each other away from their titillating discussion of whatever it is they were talking about.

Rose shrugs. "I can't help if they were so struck by my good looks that they followed me around like little puppies. I just took advantage of it."

"Oh, what it would be like to be Rosalie Cullen," I joke, snickering at her.

"Don't give me that crap. You had the hottest boy in Forks wrapped around your finger for two years," Alice argues, giving me the stink eye.

I really don't have a rebuttal for that, so I just roll my eyes. Alice snickers like she's saying, "I told you so," but I just ignore her.

"So, since my husband has been all over his favorite grandson, I'll introduce you," Charlotte jokes. "Peter, these are Rose's friends, Bella Swan and Alice Brandon."

Alice is closer, so he warmly shakes her hand and then moves to me. "Bella's name is fitting, but you're both beautiful." I can feel the heat rise in my face at his compliment while Alice thanks him. "Edward, please tell me you're dating one of them. I hardly know them, and they're both already fifty times better than what's-her-face."

I can't help the burst of laughter at their grandfather's obvious dislike of Irina. It makes me feel better for having never liked her.

"Alice has a boyfriend, Pete," Em quickly says, his eyes gleaming with mirth as he looks right at me. I give him a glare, knowing what he's trying to do. I don't know how much Rose tells Em, but he knows there's an almost-something going on with Edward and me. He's trying to make the situation awkward, but I'm determined to not let him.

"What about beautiful Bella?" Peter asks, looking at Edward imploringly. My blush heats as he grins at me and winks. "Tell me you're dating her, Edward."

"Pops!" Edward protests at the same time Carlisle's voice rings out, "Dad!" I want to melt through the floor or turn invisible or something. Em is outright laughing, Alice is giggling, and Rose is being a good friend and trying to hold her chuckles in, but it's a futile effort. I'm suddenly wishing I stayed in my dorm for the holiday.

"What? Bella is very pretty, and she's got to be fantastic if Rosie is friends with her. She's the type of girl Edward should be with," Pete argues with a shrug, like I"m not still standing right here.

Peter watches his son approach, and I've never been more grateful for Carlisle's appearance into a room. I take the opportunity to slide my way out of the gathering of people and toward the stairs. I can hear Carlisle and Peter talking behind me and don't hesitate to go up to the kitchen, hoping Esme is in there so I can insist that I help her with something.

Unfortunately, Esme is not there. This is just as well, though. I go to sit at the kitchen table and check my emails on my phone just for something to do. I can still hear voices downstairs, and I'm hoping I'm not the topic of conversation anymore. It's not that the topic of conversation was making me uncomfortable, because that's what Edward and I are working toward anyway, right? I just don't like being talked about like I'm not even there with no one just asking me what I think or how I feel. It just makes me feel a bit awkward.

Just like last week in the library, Edward startles me when he slips into the chair next to me. I have my nose so deep in my phone, I don't even hear anyone coming up the stairs.

"Hey, you alright?" he asks. His teeth pull gently at the piercing in his lip, and I want it to be my teeth doing the tugging instead.

I give him a small smile. "Yeah, I'm good. Just don't really like being talked about like I'm not there. I came up here to help your mother, but she's MIA."

"I'm sorry about my grandfather. He's a little exuberant and doesn't have the best filter." He cringes, like he's remembering past experiences where Peter's verbal filter failed. I'm sure there are many, given my short experience with the man.

"No, it's fine. It wasn't the subject that was bothering me," I assure him.

He nods. "Okay." He pauses and there's a comfortable silence that lays over us as I continue to scroll through my emails. "Hey," he finally says, "wanna go out to the meadow tonight?"

I know he's talking about the beautiful little clearing he took me to that one night. I wonder what it's going to look like this far into autumn.

I smile. "Yeah, absolutely."

"You brought your camera, right?" he asks.

"Of course."

"Good. Meet me at the back door at midnight."

So, yeah. I kind of don't like this chapter. I couldn't get into it, but I did the best that I could. Like I said, things will start to pick up with the next chapter, so just hold tight. I'm hoping to have that up a lot quicker than this one.

**Also! Big announcement!** I am writing a new story that I plan on completely finishing before I publish it. I am looking for a beta, since I think it will help along my writing process. I'd get the chapters to you now, so I can make necessary changes before I finish the entire story. So, if you're interested in being a beta, please send me a message. I'm hoping to get someone pretty soon! Thank you in advance!

Until next time, lovelies!