Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things twilight related. I currently own a mountain of student debt and about 14 dollars in my bank account. So I guess we know who wins this round.

When Life Gives You Lemons: Eat Them

You and me between sheets

It just doesn't get better than this

The many windswept yellow stickies of my mind

Are the molten emotional front line

I couldn't care less I'm transfixed in this absolute bliss

~Between Sheets, Imogen Heap

Chapter 18-Afterglow

There is a momentous and life changing feeling that erupts inside, when you wake up for the first time with a warm body next to you. It's like a flower, slowly uncurling its petals inside of you, until your whole being is filled with a sense of awe that leaves your skin tingling. I was almost afraid to move, for fear that doing so would prove the feel of Edward's slow breath on the back of my neck, and his arm lazily draped across my arm, to be yet another dream.

But the fear that I would pop the magical bubble of happiness was overshadowed by the need to pee. With squinted eyes and sluggish footfall, I found my way to Edward's bathroom. After my initial need was satisfied, I groped around the sink for soap so I could wash my hands.

A quick glance in the mirror woke me up faster than a double espresso. My hair was a three tier mountain of knotted messiness. I have a theory that either I do the tango with my pillow while I sleep, or the hair knot fairy thinks I'm her only customer. I guiltily eyed Edward's comb. I wasn't the type to use another's belonging without permission…but…another peak in the mirror reassured me that this was an emergency.

The assault upon my stubborn locks was a success, though it left my scalp rather tender. A dollop of toothpaste on my finger and some fervent scrubbing made me confident that I didn't have wicked bad morning breath. Tiptoeing back to the bedroom, I stopped in the doorway to admire what was waiting for me in bed. Edward's hair had not formed a knotted crown upon his head. No, his auburn strands were just bedraggled enough to create a contrast against the stillness of his face. The hand he had draped over me was stretched out towards the edge of the bed, as if beckoning me back to the soft, cool sheets.

Don't have to ask me twice.

I had planned to creep gently back into bed, to reclaim my spot next to Edward's warmth without disturbing his slumber. That plan was instantaneously destroyed when I tripped over one of my own shoes and face-planted into the carpet with a loud "oof". Trust my klutziness to meddle with my afterglow. Pulling myself up onto my knees, I peered over the edge of the bed to see if Edward had stirred.

Luckily, my Adonis was as still as if he were actually a work of art carved from marble. Oozing the tension of someone trying to decide between cutting the red or blue wire, I carefully maneuvered myself back into my spot under Edward's arm. He stirred slightly, his hand grasping my waist and pulling me closer. I smiled as I snuggled against my pillow, my own hand moving to embrace his.

"Was I dreaming, or did you trip over my carpet?"

His drowsy question made me chuckle. I hadn't been as successful in my endeavors as I had thought.

"Actually it was my shoe. But it's probably not surprising that I have actually tripped over carpet before."

Edward laughed against my neck, his fingers moving to slowly trace the edge of my bra. I'd slipped back into my undergarments around midnight, after Id' been urged awake by needy kisses and tempting caresses. Afterwards, I was still awake enough to remember that I wasn't a fan of sleeping in the nude. Luckily for me, Edward had no such reservations. As I rolled over to give him a good morning kiss, there was nothing between me and his flesh, warm and inviting. Just a morning kiss turned out to be as realistic as having just one chip from a can of Pringles.

Once you pop the fun don't stop after all.

It was slow at first, as he shook off the last few tendrils of slumber's embrace. And then we were off, hearts a pounding drumbeat as our bodies called to each other in their native tongue; a tangled mess of hungry movements beyond our control. If Edward's ministrations weren't enough to send me into a frenzy of need, the lusty growl he released when my hand slipped down to give a proper hello to his morning wood certainly would have done the trick.

He allowed my caresses to persist for a few minutes, before grabbing my hand and pinning it against the pillow beside my head. "My turn," he declared with a husky growl that made my body tingle with anticipation.

First his fingers, moving across my skin; possessively grasping and tauntingly gentle all at once. When his mouth followed suite, I gasped and clutched desperately at the pillow, wanting to stay grounded, but failing against the current of pleasure washing through my body. Up, up I floated like a balloon till I couldn't feel anything but the sweet torture. With my release, the balloon popped, and gravity took me back down, till again I was aware of the cool sheets and the trembling in my limbs. Edward's mouth found my own, kissing and caressing me to calmer breathing, and then slowly starting to work my body into a frenzied state once again. When I was undulating against his touches to his satisfaction, Edward entered me with a teasing slowness. My fingers dug into the skin on his shoulders, and I bit my lip as his pace quickened.

The gasps and moans flew from me with uncontrolled abandon. As I reached my release for a second time, I was only partially aware that my lips were forming words. Edward came shortly after me, burying his face against my neck as his torso went rigid.

I laid the back of my hand against my dampened forehead as Edward rolled over, his own breathing short and fast. And then, with a sudden and vicious clarity, I realized the words that I'd gasped against Edward's skin as I came. "I love you."

My breath hitched in my throat and I felt like I was being doused in ice water. Had my outburst been muffled by Edward's own noises? Did I want them to have been? I couldn't find any amount of shame or unhappiness with my words. I was pretty sure I'd meant them. But I was nervous about Edward's reaction and a little unprepared for a possible conversation regarding the "L" word.

But Edward didn't say anything. After we both took turns cleaning up in the bathroom and getting dressed, I felt a sense of uneasiness come over me. I wasn't sure what social etiquette dictated should happen next. Was I supposed to say "Hey, thanks for making my cherry popping a pleasant experience, see you tomorrow?" Did we go out on a date, did I go home? Was I supposed to be going mad right now?

As if responding to my internal banter, Edward walked over to me and gave me a soft lingering kiss, interlocking his fingers with mine. "How about some breakfast?" he asked.

"Breakfast sounds good," I answered with a smile.

"How do you feel about some buckwheat and whole grain pancakes with honey?"

"That sounds delicious. How do you learn all these healthy alternatives for food?"

"I do a lot of research. There's a ton of online recipes, and I've done some of my own trial and error cooking."

I followed Edward out to the kitchen, settling down at the table and making conversation while he meandered around the kitchen. When I was in a kitchen, I was usually in a state of chaos; forgetting something on a burner, banging around in the cabinets haphazardly. Edward, as always, was graceful and controlled in his movements, and the kitchen was soon filled with a delicious aroma. Approaching the table like a waiter, a plate in each hand, he set our food down and turned to go grab the two cups of milk he'd poured. My eyes fell down to my plate, and then I froze.

The pancakes were a rich brown in color, light and fluffy and emitting a heavenly scent. But what had gotten my attention was the drizzle of honey he'd put on mine. The thick mixture was slowly soaking into the pancakes, dripping off the edges slightly, but not enough to hinder my ability to read what Edward had written in honey on top of the fluffy brown circle.

"Luv U 2".

As I gulped and tried to calm the overwhelming urge to burst into tears, Edward offered me my cup and sat down across from me nonchalantly.

"Really?" I whispered, certain that I didn't need to elaborate.

"Really," he answered warmly. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"A little," I confessed as I picked up my fork and cut into my pancake. "Why?"

Edward cocked an eyebrow. "Why do I love you?"

I nodded and tried to distract myself with what I was doing on my plate.

"Because you're beautiful, kind, and strong. Because I feel happiest when I'm with you. Because of a thousand other feelings you evoke in me, and the fact that I can't imagine my life without you in it now."

My cheeks flushed and I averted my gaze from the intensity in Edward's eyes. My sudden shyness dissipated however, when I took a bite of my pancakes and let out a loud moan of bliss. "Oh my gob dis eez sooo good."

Edward chuckled as he took a bite of his own meal. For the next ten minutes I was unable to emit any sort of sound aside from food porn moans and exclamations like "How can this be healthy when it tastes so good?"

When we were both done our meals, I helped Edward wash the dishes. Now that I was wide awake and fed, I was feeling kind of grungy in yesterday's clothes. A trip home to take a shower, put on some fresh clothes, and check in with Rose was in order.

After walking me to my truck, Edward gave me a goodbye kiss that almost made me decide that fresh clothes were completely unnecessary. It was with great reluctance that I pulled away, my hands still lingering to frame his face. With a deep breath I looked him square in the eyes and said those three words again. "I love you." When he said it back and kissed my forehead, I didn't flinch, didn't doubt it. I smiled and breathed him in, giving in to my desire for one more kiss before hopping into the driver's seat. He waited patiently at the front of his driveway, his image in my rearview mirror a promise that I was taking him with me.

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"Somebody had a sleepover."

Rosalie was waiting to pounce on me in mockingly scandalized tones. Even if I had wanted to play it cool, pretend nothing major had happened, I couldn't hide the raw truth of my emotions from Rose. Not even a little bit. A smile, one party shy and two parts afterglow bliss, stretched across my face with wild abandon.

A strangled squeal of delight ripped its way out of my friend. Suddenly she was in my face, her fingers gripping my shoulders. "Oh my god, Bella. I know that smile. You didn't get any sleep at that sleepover, did you?"

I bit my lip and shrugged, which was apparently an unsatisfactory answer.

"Isabella Swan, you do NOT play meek and quiet with your best friend regarding matters like these."

Rolling my eyes, I forced my way past my dejected bestie, and set my purse down on the coffee table. "What do you want Rose, an x-rated play by play?"

"A Pg-13 rated summary at least!" she answered, oozing the enthusiasm of an excited puppy dog as she bounced onto the couch and pulled me down next to her.

It was quite obvious my shower was not going to happen till I gave Rose what she wanted. I did have an awful lot to catch her up on. Though I'd been home for a short while the day I'd woken up with Edward's writing on me, I hadn't really sat down and filled her in. So away I went, starting with my meltdown at Edward's, and ending with this morning's "L-word" exchange. When I was finished, Rose's eyes were full of tears and she was gripping my hands with a fervor that threatened to cut off blood flow.

"Holy hell, Bella. It's like your life has become a Nicholas Sparks book."

I groaned. "Doesn't someone always die in his books? Thanks for that morbid thought, Rose."

She laughed. "I was just referring to the sweeping, soul crushingly sweet romance."

"No, if my life were a romance I'd be a curvaceous temptress with long lashes, pouty lips, and flawless cocoa colored tresses. Now, is your need for juicy details satisfied? Because I'd like to take a shower and put on some clean clothes."

"Yes, you do that!" Rose replied, her golden hair bouncing about her shoulders as she jumped to her feet and clapped her hands. "But don't put on "around the house" clothes…because later, I am taking you out for a celebratory "lost your v-card" dinner!"

I was pulled to my feet and practically hurled towards the bathroom. "Your excitement about the status of my sex life is borderline creepy Rose! I just want you to know that!"

Several hours later I was in Rosalie's car, confused as to why we were halfway through our hour long drive to Port Angeles. It seemed like an awfully long drive to take just to get some dinner. Voicing that opinion had gotten me side-eye glare from Rose though, so I'd decided to keep my thoughts to myself. When we finally arrived at our destination, I peered out the window warily. When I saw the sign that labeled the building SoHo Asian Bistro, I went into full blown panic mode.

"Asian cuisine Rose, really? When have I ever eaten Asian food in a controlled manner, huh? I'm gonna totally blow my diet!"

My outburst received nothing but an eye roll from the heartless fiend. "We're celebrating, Bella. It's okay to stuff your face for one night. Besides, with all the sex you'll be having now, you'll be burning so many calories that this meal won't matter."

I couldn't really argue with her. We'd driven all the way here and my stomach was growling. There was no choice but to get out of the car, though I muttered at Rose while I did it.

Once we entered the establishment, all thoughts of aggravation dissipated as a myriad of savory aromas assaulted me. I may have gone a little weak in the knees with desire. Rose unleashed a triumphant smile, fully aware that she had me.

The service was timely, the atmosphere soothing and the food was divine. Rose and I split and order of Phod Kee Mao (spicy Thai style rice noodles with peppers, broccoli, tomato, and a blast of other flavors), and an order of Kun Pao Chicken. Just a few bites in, I was feeling like I wanted to live in that restaurant forever.

"Okay," I said, after finishing a bite of chicken, "I know you're all "let's celebrate Bella, huzzah!" but let's talk about you for a minute. How are things with you and Emmett?"

Rosalie Hale was not the kind of girl I'd ever typically describe as "melting with emotion", but in response to my question she pretty much did just that. Falling back against her chair as if she'd gone boneless, and I daresay she even got a bit doe-eyed as a lovesick smile stretched across her face.

In the words of the immortalized Bambi…she was twitterpated. I'd honestly never seen her like this before.

With the other men in her life, men like Royce, she'd always exuded a frenzied state of stress. Men had always treated her like a trophy, and she bent over backwards to please. She'd always worried about looking like the picture of perfection, and was crushed when the men around her abused her affections and treated her like an object instead of a person. This new look was peace and joy, a girl who was receiving as much as she was given. It warmed my heart as I listened to her talk about Emmett; the happiness etched in her voice as she talked about the things he did that drove her crazy, or made her laugh.

"So…explain it to me again. He told you he loved you on a pancake? How legible is syrup writing?" Rose leaned forward, her lovey-dovey demeanor gone and all focus back on me.

"First of all it wasn't syrup, it was honey."

"Honey?" Rose asked in surprise.

"Yes. Honey," I responded.

"How sweet," Rosalie deadpanned, causing me to roll my eyes. "But that still begs the question….how legible is honey writing?"

"Well, he had to minimize the writing…it was kind of in text speak. But still ridiculously sweet and somehow much classier than the way I did it."

"Hey now, there's nothing wrong with a mid-coitus declaration of love, Bella."

"Rosalie…it would be really great if you never used the word coitus in my presence again. Can we talk about normal things now?"

I managed to steer the conversation to more comfortable waters for the remainder of our meal. My stomach and my need for girl talk were both satiated as we headed to the car. Of course the minute the car was started and we were on our way home, Rose had to kill my buzz by turning on the radio and staring at me with an expectant smile. "Who is this, Bella?"

Here's the thing…when I know a song or an artist I'm really passionate about it. Unfortunately, a lot of songs and artists the majority of humanity consider to be cherished and a necessary part of everyone's musical vocabulary…elude me, for lack of a better phrasing. For instance, I could probably only pick out one of the Beatle's songs on the radio. That one about imagining all the happy people. At least I think that's a Beatle's song. I wouldn't put your money on it.

In any case, Rose likes to play a game with me when we're in the car. She'll turn the radio on and ask me to guess who the artist is. She learned very fast that asking for the song names themselves would get her nowhere. Not that I'm particularly good at naming the artists either. Normally my guess makes Rose take a very calm, slow breath, and then grip the steering wheel like she's imagining it's my throat.

You would think that after a while she'd stop this game, seeing as I have maybe a 10% chance of accuracy. Yet she keeps it up, leaving me to assume she must be slightly masochistic.

I turned my attention to the song at hand. Definitely a male voice. The lyrics didn't ring any bells in my head, but I listened closer, hoping for some recognition.

"Sweet Caroline
Good times never seemed so good
I've been inclined
To believe they never would"

Nope, not a clue. I couldn't even think up a suitable guess. But then an idea struck. The last time we'd played this game, the answer had been The Beatles. This sounded like a slow Beatles era song.

"Um…is it The Beatles?"

I was answered with silence.

That thick, heavy silence that lets you know that you have said something terribly wrong and you are currently being judged.

"So that would be a no on The Beatles, Rose?"

"IT'S SWEET CAROLINE, BELLA. IT'S NEIL DIAMOND. NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIL DIIIIIIIIIAMOND. HE SOUNDS NOTHING LIKE THE BEATLES."

I shrugged, aware that I had angered the music gods, but so used to this losing battle that apathy had begun to set in. "I figure if I keep guessing The Beatles, I'll be right eventually."

Rosalie let out a defeated groan. "You, Isabella Swan, hurt my soul. Deeply."

"Then stop making me guess. It's like you've turned me into a knife with which you repeatedly stab yourself. Don't make me hurt you anymore Rose!" I waved my arms in a dramatic support of my words. Rose just shook her head at me like I had run over every cute fluffy pet she'd ever had.

Lucky for me my phone started ringing, a distraction from the downtrodden way Rose was sighing and casting me dagger glares. When I saw it was Charlie calling, I felt unnerving panic shoot though my brains. Here he was, calling at 7.30 at night, when it was unlike him to ever call anyone after 3pm. I answered the call in fear. "Dad? What's wrong? Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you? Should I call an ambulance?"

"What? What in the hell are you talking about? Can't a father phone his daughter in expectation of a pleasant conversation?"

"Not when he's the kind of father that looks at telephones like they're children of the devil. Don't scare me like that. What is so important that you're calling at this time of night?"

"I had a thought and I ran with it. It's time, Bells. I'm putting my foot down. You've been traipsing about town with that Cullen for months and it's time for us to do an old fashioned "meet the parents" dinner with your dear old Papa Swan."

I didn't know what I was more horrified about. That my father had called himself Papa Swan…and somehow that sounded like a dirty porn name, or that he was insisting upon a dinner with Edward.

"Dad…I'm not sure…"

"You, young lady, are all out of excuses. You will show up, with your Cullen boy in tow, tomorrow night at five. Or I'll be forced to hunt you down and embarrass the hell out of you in public."

For once in my life…I actually believed a threat that had come from my father's mouth.

"Fine, Dad, fine. We'll see you tomorrow at five."

"That's my girl, love you."

I hung up the phone and stared ahead of me in shock.

"Who was on the phone, Bella? Are you okay? You look like you're gonna throw up."

I looked at Rose, the horror of my reality sinking in. "My dad just bullied me into agreeing to bring Edward over for dinner tomorrow."

A good friend would have fed me some soothing line about how I had nothing to worry about.

Or they'd tell me that I was being ridiculous, and make a sarcastic joke to break through to my terror encased soul.

But not Rosalie.

She looked at me with big-bug eyes, took a deep breath, and said "You did tell him he's not allowed to bring any of his guns to dinner, right?"

Thanks, Rosalie, thanks.

With that…I felt the last dregs of my afterglow evaporate into the dark abyss that was my life.

(AN) So this will probably be one of those "too long, I'm not reading this" kind of notes...which is why I saved it for the bottom. Feel free to just ignore it. But the summary is...I finished my bachelor's degree...and have spent the past months trying to find work in my field of choice. That kind of bombed...and a tiny bit of depression set in...and then it grew into a mountain of depression. And well...it's hard to write a story where the main character is so much of yourself, when you're not feeling too good about where you're at in life. So I apologize for the long disappearance...and I hope that some of you have stuck around. Big hugs and eternal gratitude go to my beta Missy, and to Amber, Nikka, and Olivia...who have been so supportive of me and persistently assured me that I'd get over my hump and reconnect with this story. You guys were right, and I love you. And to everyone who is still reading...I love you too. Chapter 19 is already halfway done...so here's to a promise that I'll be taking you to the end of this story with no more 3 month absences.