Edward growled, "Newton," while at the same time, Mike growled, "Cullen."

Okay, I was officially confused. How did they know each other? And what the hell was Newton doing in my dorm?

I walked up to the door and stood beside Edward, watching their glaring competition. "How do you guys know each other?"

Without taking his eyes off Newton, Edward answered in a deadly tone. "We go way back." His voice sent chills up my spine.

Newton finally seemed to notice my presence, because as soon as he heard my voice, his saucer-shaped blue eyes broadened even further when he looked at me. His eyes shamelessly roamed over my form while I squirmed uncomfortably in front of him. Edward growled and stepped in front of me, successfully blocking me from Newton's view. Thank God. All his staring made me feel tingly inside. The feeling was unpleasant.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. Was it normal to find it overly-creepy that Mike Newton knew where my dorm was?

"I'm here for our date, Bella." His voice sounded genuinely surprised. Probably because he figured out I'd completely forgotten about it.

"Oh, right."

Stupid, stupid Bella! Is that all you can say?

I somehow failed to notice Edward's reaction—how his eyes literally popped out of their sockets, or how his fist was tightened until the white tendons of his skin covering his knuckles was visible.

"When did this happen?" he growled out.

"Uh… a few weeks ago, I think," I said.

"Yeah, Bella and I just ran into each other and we got talking," Mike smirked, gloating.

Uh, no. I was avoiding you like the plague you were until you decided to make your unwanted presence announced and beg to go on a date with me. Seriously, how could he not take a hint? He asked me out for Sunday; I told him I was busy. Then he asked if he could go out the next, next Sunday. I guess he was just the persistent type—the type that wouldn't leave you alone until you agreed to what they said. The type that wouldn't stop bragging about it until the day was over. Quite frankly, I didn't understand his motives—or why he even wanted to go out with me in the first place. Yes, I'm a girl. Yes, I'm young. Yes, I'm pretty. But I wasn't gorgeous or anything near it. I wasn't even that interesting. I honestly didn't understand why he was so attracted to me.

"You could have called," I grumbled. Just because he was already here—wearing a crisp blue button-down shirt and jeans with blond hair spiked into a Mohawk—didn't mean I had to be all happy-go-lucky about it, or accept my situation with open arms.

"Yeah, for some reason, I think that Jessica girl seemed mistaken and gave me her number instead of yours." Ah, that'd explain why he hadn't pestered me these two weeks with his calls. "However, since you're already ready, why don't we go now?"

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose and took long, deep breaths, trying to stay calm. "Bella, can I talk to you for a second?" Then his eyes shifted over to Mike, standing at the doorway. "Alone, please." Mike rolled his eyes, but didn't follow us as we went into the kitchen, hopefully out of earshot.

It was then that he released some of his pent-up frustration. "Why, Bella?" he asked, his voice showing hurt.

At first, I didn't understand what he was saying. Then it hit me. "Oh," I shook my head. "I didn't even want to go out with him. He somehow saw me at some café and kept shouting my name until I heard him. Then Jessica and Alice set me up. I swear I had nothing to do with it. I don't even like the guy's company." I didn't know why I kept babbling. I didn't know why I even cared what Edward thought. Sure, he was my friend. But seriously, why was I feeling so guilty about this? Why did I feel the need to tell him I wasn't even remotely interested in Mike Newton? I didn't understand any of it, so I just tried to ignore the feeling.

The corners of Edward's mouth slowly started pulling up from my rant, so I stopped talking.

"Bella," he said, as he ran his hand through my hair. "I'm saying this because I care about you. I truly, genuinely do. Newton is not good company. I know this because we have a 'history' together. We've known each other ever since I started going to this University. We used to…" he hesitated, torn. He shook his head. "What I'm trying to say is that I've known him for a while, Bella. He's a player. Even though he's turned it down a notch or two, he's still the same person, and—"

I rolled my eyes at his antics. "Edward, relax. He's not going to do anything to me."

"You don't have to do this, you know. I would be more than happy to kick his sorry a—"

"Tempting… but sorry, no." For some reason, I felt if I asked him to, he really would beat Mike up into a pulp, without any regret or second thoughts.

"So…" he said conversationally, "you have no interest whatsoever in him?"

"No," I said, exasperated. "Honestly, he's annoying and whines like a five-year-old until he gets what he wants."

"You guys done yet?" Mike rudely called from the doorway.

I sighed. "That's my queue, I guess." Edward followed me out.

"Ready?" he asked, holding his hand out.

I nodded.

"Remember," Edward whispered in my ear, sending shivers down my spine, "I'll be closer than you think…" As I grabbed Mike's hand, Edward closed the door, winking at me.

Now, what was that all about?

~*—-—The Date—-—*~

I can't believe I let Jessica convince me to do this. And of course Alice just had to be in the loop and force me to dress in those clothes. Ugh, why had I let Jessica set me up, again?

It suddenly hit me; Alice and Jessica had arranged this without telling me a thing about it. That would explain why Alice was so keen on dressing me up this afternoon. It wasn't because of Edward's football match. It was because of my date. She remembered. And I had no choice but to accept… I was all ready and dressed up, after all. The reason Alice was spending the night at Jasper's was probably because she didn't want to face my 'fit.'

The idiot seemed oblivious to my mood, and kept blabbing on and on about how this date was going to be the 'best I ever had.' Then he realized that there was a song with that title, and started laughing at his own joke like the nut he was. His joke wasn't even that funny.

Honestly, didn't he notice all the stares we got? Sure, it was good to laugh once in a while, but didn't he ever hear of a thing called limits? After a while, though, he stopped laughing.

But then his senseless chatter started all over again.

Someone, shoot me. Please.

After a few minutes, we reached McDonalds.

I gave him a look that said 'you gotta be kidding me.' He ignored me and walked up to the register. He ordered some new sandwich for himself and a black coffee for me.

He didn't even ask for my consent.

And I hated black coffee.

"…so he's like, 'What?' And I was all, like, 'Oh no you di-int.' And then he was, like…"

Ugh. How long had it been?

I glanced at my watch.

Oh, God.

It had only been thirty seconds since we sat down, and I was already thinking ways of leaving.

Did I ever mention he gossiped and talked like a complete girl?

"…and I was like, 'No way!' "

Then he started unabashedly laughing, not noticing that I was completely ignoring him, or that people around him were giving him irritated looks.

"Um, excuse me. I have to go to the washroom," I lied. Without waiting for a response from him, I leaped up and scrambled to get away from him as quickly as I possibly could.

I washed my face twice and straightened up, staring at my pale, make-up covered reflection in the mirror looking back at me, and sighed. I didn't want to be here. How had I even gotten myself into this? Because I'm a sucker for those puppy-dog pouts, that's why. As I re-applied some lip gloss and touched up my face make-up, I gave myself a small pep talk, silently in my head.

You can do this, Bella. What's Newton to you, anyway? Nothing. He's nothing compared to some of the slobs you've went out with before. Get your act together, girl. You're better than this.

I sighed. I can do this. I gave myself a once-over, and stepped out of the washroom, head held high. Unfortunately, that wasn't the greatest idea.

As I neared my date, I didn't notice the carpet that was closest to my chair, the corner of it folded over. Naturally, with me being so clumsy and uncoordinated, I expected to call flat on my face, or at least straight into Newton's dinner. The heels attached to my feet merely added to that factor. Only I didn't stumble. I didn't even fall flat on my face. I simply lost my balance and somehow ended up crouching in front of Newton, sitting on one knee.

His eyes were wide. "B-B-Bella..." he stuttered. Okay, why was he stuttering?

"What?" I snapped. I simply tripped—it's hardly the end of the world.

He closed his eyes, balling his fists at his sides, muttering to himself. "She's a lunatic, Mickey. Relax." He took a deep breath and nodded to himself. "I can do this." What was he talking about? He suddenly brought his face closer to mine, inching closer and closer. Before I knew it, his lips were on mine. His lips were soft and gentle, and he kept his hands at his sides. But I moved away from him before he could go farther. Because when I kissed him, I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. My body didn't even want to respond to his advances, all because my mind was on a certain someone else. And that scared the hell out of me.

"That…" he panted, "was amazing." I didn't say anything. Luckily, I didn't need to. He could start conversation by himself. "Look, Bella." He took a deep breath. "I know you're really into me, and I understand that. I mean, a lot of girls find it hard to resist my devilishly good looks and my charm, but…" What the hell was he talking about? "I'm just not ready for this type of commitment."

Okay, I was officially lost.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He was the one that initiated the kiss in the first place, after all.

"Marriage, Bella. I'm… I'm not really a one-woman type of man."

My eyes widened. "W-why are you talking to me about marriage?"

"Well, because you're proposing to me, and—"

"WHAT?" I yelled. I looked down at my position. Damn, I did look I was proposing.

"Well," he continued, "I'm just—"

"I tripped," I said through clenched teeth.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"I. Tripped. It was an accident. Okay?" I had to restrain myself from hitting something.

How in hell did he come up with that idea? All I did was fall.

He suddenly seemed happy again and started blabbing on and on about nothing in general, so it was safe to tune him out.

My last breath of patience and self-control wholly shattered when I felt his spit and saliva land on my lower lip.

Damn Newton. Damn the pixie who forced me to do this. Damn it all.

I swiftly stood up. "And you know what I said?" I shrieked at him. "This is the worst date ever!" At his look of shock, I added, "Yes way!" It was much better than his 'No ways!' I didn't know we had an audience until I heard some clapping and whistling. I guess I wasn't the only one who was aggravated by his presence. As a grand finale, I grabbed my coffee and dumped the whole, entire cup on him.

I made a show of bowing, then I grabbed my purse and left.

As soon as I reached my car, I dug through my purse, fishing for my keys, glaring at my car.

"And they call me insane," a velvet voice muttered.

I whipped my head around. "What?"

He chuckled. "You're standing there glaring at your car. Do you have some sort of revulsion for your car, or something? And they call me the insane one," he repeated sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes. "Can you be any more of a jerk?" I snapped. Just because I recently escaped the worst date of my life, it didn't mean I wasn't cold. Or tired. Or annoyed.

"Yes, actually I could, but then I would probably risk getting smacked, so I'm trying to be good," he joked.

"If this is you being good, then I don't want to be close when you're actually being a jerk," I replied. "Geez," I continued, setting my hands over my hyperactive heart. "You know how bad you scared me?"

He chuckled. "Sorry."

I rolled my eyes, but didn't say anything on the matter.

"I'm never, ever going on a blind date EVER again," I vowed.

"Amen," he said.

I turned, putting my keys in the door of my truck.

"Bella?"

"Yes?" I sighed. I was tired, and annoyed. Couldn't I just go home to my warm bed already?

"Have dinner with me?" he asked.

"Um, actually Edward, I kinda already ate," I mumbled, feeling guilty all of a sudden.

Ugh! What was he doing to me? Why did he have to have such a huge effect on me, physically and emotionally? Why was he making me feel the way I do feel when I'm around him? And why didI feel guilty for not accepting dinner with him?

"Fine, then," he said, giving me a dazzling smile. "Maybe some other time…"

I sucked in a breath, having trouble breathing all of a sudden. When did it get so hot out here?

I turned back to my car. "Good night, Edward."

"Good night, Beautiful."

I rolled my eyes, turning the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. No roar, no sound. Nothing.

"Ugh!" I closed my eyes, resting my head on the steering wheel. "It's not starting."

He was quiet for a moment. "Do you want me to take a look at it?"

I opened my eyes, surprised.

"Are there any conditions?" I asked warily. I was tired, cold, and annoyed. I wanted to sleep in my warm, cozy bed. Friend or foe, I didn't want to spend another minute longer than necessary here.

He chuckled. "No," he said. "No strings attached." He rolled the sleeves of his polo shirt up to his elbow and examined my car, leaning over the engine. I spent the next few minutes ogling him and all his glory. Why couldn't Mike be like him? Why did I have to get stuck with all the stupidest guys for dates?

"Hmm," Edward hummed thoughtfully.

"You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" I asked.

He stood up and looked at me. "I think I get the jist of it." He started explaining some mechanical, technical stuff that I had no idea whatsoever about, and so I just stared at him. He suddenly put his index finger under my chin and closed my mouth. "Careful there, Bella. We don't want to catch flies, now do we?" I blushed and yanked my face away from him, not wanting him to see me blush, again. "Come on." he said. "I'll walk you home..." I was about to say something, but he cut me off. "Please?" he pouted. "It's not you I worry about." He looked left and right, making sure no one listening in. Then the leaned down and whisped, "I'm actually really, really scared of the dark." He said this as if he were confessing a deep, dark secret.

I had to laugh. "You so are not."

He chuckled, reaching out to grab my hand. "I just might be."

"Okay then," I agreed. Thanks." I didn't take my hand back though. His hand was warm, strong, and made me feel safe. I always wanted to be with him. Our dorm was about six blocks away. We walked in a peaceful silence for a while.

"It looks like there'll be no more blind dates for you."

"What makes you say that?" I asked, curious.

"Well, you just get so crabby; it's kinda hard to ignore it."

I blushed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to flip at you—"

"It's fine," he said, smiling. "I get it."

I smiled, looking down at the ground. "So, Edward…"

"Yes, Bella?" He looked down at me questioningly.

I asked the one question that was literally eating away at me. "How do you know Mike?"

He sighed and looked straight ahead, all traces of humour gone. "You really want to know?"

"Uh… you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"We just… Well, I don't really know how it all started. But we met in my first year here, when we were trying out for the football team," he said this, looking at the road straight ahead. "We went to parties and got drunk together. We went out with tons girls, not giving a care of the world around us, and…" he trailed off, finally looking at me. "I think you get what I'm trying to imply here."

I nodded. I think I did. "But how'd you become 'enemies'?"

"We had this pact, where we wouldn't let any mere girl get into our friendship, and it remained that way." He hesitated. "Then, I noticed a girl here, at Twilight University. She was the first girl I really, really noticed." He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "She was gorgeous, smart, witty, sporty, everything a guy would ever want in a girl…" he looked at me from the corner of his eye for a second. "Turns out, he wanted her too," his voice turned darker. "We fought; he eventually gave up, and left, along with our 'friendship'. Turns out he lied about leaving her alone."

I was still processing this information.

I hated how my stomach plummeted when he admitted he liked a girl. I hated how my heart dropped, and how my eyes stung with tears that were blurring my vision. I rapidly blinked, trying to get rid of my tears. I hated how I was so affected by this man, and I didn't even know why.

We were silent for a moment. "Who is it?"

He looked down at me, smiling. "I can't really tell you that."

I tried to keep my voice normal. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not sure if she even likes me in the first place."

"Why would you say that?" I asked, surprised. "Any girl would be lucky to be with you."

"See, that's just it. She's gorgeous. Sexy as hell…" He shook his head, smiling. "She doesn't even realize it half the time. She's witty and smart, but… so damn confusing at the same time. One moment, she seems like she's completely into me. The next… she's not. I just don't get her feelings."

She's gorgeous. Sexy as hell…

His words kept buzzing around in my head. I fought back the tears again.

"What's her name?" I asked casually.

"I can't tell you that."

"Well… what does she look like?" Maybe I could figure it out with a description.

"She has gorgeous brown hair that ends at her elbow." He said this while gently running his hand through my soft hair. "And she's about average height. She has a smile to die for and a lean, stunning body. But her eyes are what captivate me the most. They're a beautiful chocolate brown colour, and hold nothing but passion, and truth. Not only is she physically attractive, but she's stunning from the inside, too."

By now, we reached the school dorms. Since Alice and Jasper were staying at his dorm, he decided to spend the night at mine and Alice's.

"You know, you sound like you're in love," I pointed out as I unlocked the door to my dorm.

He gave me a dazzling smile. "Maybe you're right."

Most guys wouldn't admit things like Edward was. They'd most likely deny it. No guy was ever as open to me as Edward was… He was so sweet. And that only made him more perfect.

It was too bad he was already after a girl. A girl with brown hair and brown eyes, and—

"Edward," I whined, suddenly realizing something. "Anyone can fit that depiction… I mean, even I fit in the description you just gave."

He looked at me like I was missing something completely obvious. "In my rant, did I ever mention how she continuously tends to miss the obvious?" he spat. "There could be a huge neon sign with flashing lights right beside her, and she probably wouldn't notice." He stomped over to the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

I quickly changed into a tank top and black short shorts while he was in the bathroom, and replayed the conversation over and over in my head as I lay in my bed. I became more confused as time went on. I didn't stop thinking about it even after Edward came out of the bedroom and climbed into the other bed, mumbling a short, clipped "Good Night." I didn't understand what I had done to make him angry at me.

For the first time in my life, I silently cried myself to sleep, all for a boy I liked, who didn't like even like me back. He probably didn't even want to talk to me anymore.

I had one of the strangest dreams ever. In my dream, I was standing in front of a mirror, hearing Edward's deep, velvet voice echo through the room. Only, I couldn't see him at all—he wasn't in the room. And I couldn't see myself either. It was like there was a veil over my body, blocking me from seeing myself.

"…She's about average height…"

The blurred figure shown in the mirror became slightly clearer. She looked as tall as I did.

"…She has gorgeous brown hair that ends at her elbow…"

I could distinctly see soft, brown elbow-length hair, but the face was still blurred.

"…She has a smile to die for and a lean, stunning body…"

The picture became shaper, more focused.

"…Her eyes are what captivate me the most. They're a beautiful chocolate brown colour, and hold nothing but passion and truth…"

As the last 'barrier' was removed, I suddenly saw myself—my own reflection—standing before me.

"Not only is she physically attractive, but she's stunning from the inside, too."

My voice suddenly echoed through the room, startling me. "You know, you sound like you're in love." Only, I didn't speak; my mouth wasn't moving.

"Maybe you're right," Edward's smiling voice echoed.

I woke up covered in cold sweat, gasping, panting, trying to regul

ate my breathing. There was a blanket covering me. Huh, that was odd. I didn't recall covering myself with a blanket. Then I scanned the room and my eyes landed on my alarm clock.

1: 30 A.M., it flashed in blood red letters. I rubbed my tired eyes.

Why was I up this late at night? My gaze landed on Edward and the reason suddenly hit me full forced like a tonne of bricks. I gasped as my dream and Edward's words came flooding back to me. I suddenly realized—I liked Edward. As in I really, really liked him. Not just the temporary high school crush type, either. That was why my over-reactive heart always fluttered in his presence, or why my palms became sweaty when he talked to me, or why my body felt tingly shocks whenever he touched me. I liked him. I was attracted to him. My body knew it. My subconscious knew it. I somehow failed to notice it. Edward was right. I did miss the obvious, even when it was laid out in front of me. I wasn't going to deny it any longer. But there was one problem.

I wasn't sure if he really was talking about me, or it was my overactive imagination taunting me with someone I couldn't have. Now that I knew I liked Edward, and was ready to go to the next step, it seemed much, much harder to grasp the fact that he might possibly want someone else. Why? All because I wasn't denying my feelings any longer, and because I never dealt with rejection before, I didn't know what to expect, or what to brace myself for.

For once, I was listening to my heart.

There was no denying it—I was anxious. I couldn't wait until Edward woke up so I could talk to him. And because of that, I couldn't sleep, not even if I tried. I tossed and turned in bed, with no avail whatsoever. I stared at the ceiling, willing myself to sleep. But it wouldn't come. I sighed, annoyed, and turned over on my side.

My alarm clock told me it was a little after three in the morning.

For the millionth time in two hours, my eyes drifted off to Edward, watching his sleeping form. I got up and walked over to him, crouching beside the bed. He was laying on his back with one arm tucked under his head. It was as if he fell asleep staring at the ceiling. His expression was so peaceful and calm. For a while, I just stared at him, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he took deep breaths. As if my hand had a mind of its' own, it slowly went and touched the tips of his hair. I ran my fingers through his hair. It was so soft and silky. He moved a little, but didn't wake up.

"Mmm. I could get used to waking up like this," he mumbled, sleep clouding his voice as well as desire.

I froze. He was awake.

I pulled my hand back immediately and moved my eyes up to his face, afraid of what he was going to say. I didn't even know if he was still mad at me or not.

I completely regretted this. I should've just sat on my bed and waited rather than going over to him and getting lost with his looks and beauty.

Too late now.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough," he replied as he wrapped his arms around me and effortlessly swung me onto the bed, beside him. He ran his fingers gently through my hair. I was pressed up against him that I felt every detail of his body, and because I was so close to him, I was inhaling his heavenly scent, too. My hands were frozen on his chest. "I'm not mad at you," he whispered huskily in my ear, as if reading my mind. "I could never be mad at you."

"But what about last night—"

"I wasn't mad at you, Beautiful. I'm sorry for leading you to that conclusion." With one hand around my waist, he moved the other to side of my face and softly rubbed my jaw. He cupped my cheek. "I was mad at myself, for always messing up."

"How did you mess up?" I whispered.

He never broke eye contact until now. "I always mess up. Or say something wrong. Or don't say the right thing."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

He sighed, and I felt the vibration of it through his chest. "I take it you understand the depth of my feelings for you? And that's why you came over here?" I nodded at him. "And you were probably confused at first why I snapped last night?" Again, I nodded. He sighed and looked at me again. "I should've just said it at the beginning, come clean and explained just how much I was attracted to you. From the moment I lay eyes on you at the airport, I was smitten with you. I mean, you were just so beautiful." I was glad it was dark enough that he didn't see my blush. He ran his thumb over my cheek. "I love your blush." Oh, crap. I guess not. "I was constantly thinking about you for days and days on end. You could only imagine my surprise when we ran into each other at the University, or when I found out you were Alice's roommate… Then you found out my reputation with girls. I didn't understand why I was affected by your words, and I honestly didn't understand why you felt resentment against me. I decided to ignore you. I mean, you made it quite apparent you wanted nothing to do with me. But as the days went on, I missed you, and I realized you didn't resent me, but my actions. So evidently, I tried to change—for you. I never wanted anyone as much as I wanted you. As I got to know you better, I found I enjoyed your persona, your company, and your reactions." Noticing my confusion, he added, "You never react to a situation like I'd expect you to. You always keep me on my toes. You have a real personality. You don't do things based on what others think, but on what you like. You don't judge, and ignore the people who do judge you. You're a strong, independent woman, and selfless—"

"Whoa, whoa. Hold up there, Edward," I interrupted, shocked. I couldn't believe he actually said what he said. "Selfless? Strong? Not judgmental? Independent? Honestly, where are you getting this stuff from? I'm anything but those words." I'm probably the most selfish person I know.

He shifted so he could face me better, keeping his weight on his forearms. "You are not selfish, Sweetheart. And you are definitely NOT the most selfish person I know."

Oh, my God. I said that out loud?

He chuckled. "Yes, you did."

What other stuff had I said to him that I was unaware of?

He smirked. "I'm not sure…but you do tend to speak your mind quite often when I'm around."

I covered my face with my hands. God, this was embarrassing. It was more than embarrassing—it was mortifying.

"Come on, Beautiful. Don't be embarrassed." He gently removed my hands from my face. "Would you like to hear the rest of my story?"

Damn him. How does he always know what to say?

He laughed. "Well, do you?"

Stubbornly, I refused to say anything. I just nodded. He rolled us over again so I was on top, and so he didn't have to support himself on his arms.

"So I was obviously smitten with you. God, I wanted you. I mean, who wouldn't?" He was making me blush again. "But you were different. A good different… I guess, to save all this time and inconvenience, I should've just told you how I felt from the beginning."

"Why didn't you?" I whispered.

He ran his index finger down my cheek. "Because I was afraid of rejection."

Ah, he was so used to girls coming up to him, and the one that he was actually interested in didn't.

I smiled. "You know how clichéd that sounds?"

He grinned back. "Yes, I suppose it does…" He sat us up and leaned against the headboard, folding his arms across his chest. I sat up as well. "Now that you know how my story, care to share yours?"

I blushed and looked down.

He just told me he's been head over heels for me for some time now, and what am I supposed to say? Oh Edward, I just had a dream last night and that's how I realized my feelings for you.

So not going to happen.

His smoldering emerald green eyes were staring at me with an intensity that could only make me blush. And the way he was rubbing circles on the back of my hand was not helping. I inhaled sharply.

I looked up to see him smiling widely.

Why was he smiling like that?

"Stop that," I finally said.

"What?"

"That. Stop distracting me."

"Like this?" he asked innocently.

His warm hand trailed down my bare arm to my hand, and started rubbing circles into it. I shivered—and it wasn't from the cold. I was actually really hot now. His hand suddenly went past my ribcage and I giggled before I could control myself.

A devious grin spread across his face. "Ticklish, are we?"

Before I could answer, he started attacking my stomach. "Ed-Ed—" I couldn't stop laughing. "S-sto-p. P-plee-aase." He didn't stop. "Mercy!" I screamed. "Mercy!"

He finally stopped. He tsked. "You're going to wake up the neighbours, Bella."

I pointed my finger at his chest. "And whose fault is that?"

"Hey," he threw his hands up, "don't look at me."

I glared at him. "I'll get you back for that," I warned. But I couldn't keep the smile off my face.

"Of course you will, Princess." He didn't seem the least bit worried. He opened his arms—an irresistible offer. "Now come over here and sleep."

I looked at the clock. It was already five in the morning.

I crawled over to him and lay down, tangling my legs with his, and feeling him wrap his strong arms around me. I loved being held in his embrace. It made me feel safe.

And warm.

And happy.

And blissful.

But most of all, I felt loved.

I didn't know what me and Edward were exactly, but I didn't care. I wanted him, he wanted me, and we were both happy. And for the first time since I got here, I didn't have trouble sleeping. I actually welcomed the exultant shadows as slumber took me over.