More Than Words By SydneyAlice

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7356436/1/

Chapter 1

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Rain

I love the rain.

Have I ever told you that?

In my hometown, it rains almost everyday, all day long. When I moved away to
college, I was careful to choose a place close to home because I love the rain so
much. But the city was never my home. Home is wet and green. Home is my
father.

My dad is patient and level-headed and fair. When I was sixteen, those weren't
the words I would have used to describe him. I would have called him stubborn
and strict and totally unreasonable. My father didn't have many rules, but he did
have two – don't break curfew and don't ride in cars with boys.

One night, when I was sixteen, I broke both rules.

I was grounded for two months. One month for each broken rule, I suppose.

At the time, I was so angry. I was so angry that I actually packed my bags and
tried to hitchhike to Arizona to live with my mom. I made it as far as the one
signal light in town before my father found me. Very kindly, he told me that he
loved me and wanted me to come home. With that one sentence, I realized that
he was, in that moment, showing me more love than my mother had shown me
in my entire lifetime.

I climbed into the front seat of his police cruiser, and he took me to his favorite
diner where we shared a banana split.

A little ice cream and all was forgiven.

I don't know why I felt compelled to tell you that. There are days like today –
with the rain pounding against my windowpane – that I think about home and
how much I love it here.

What I'm Listening To: "Rain" by Patty Griffin

I hit send just as a rowdy group of seniors walked into the library. Tonight was
football homecoming and excitement was in the air. Athletics are taken very
seriously in small towns, and Forks was no different. Football at Forks High

School was so important that the football boosters had raised enough money to
replace the consistently muddy ground with Astroturf.

That's right. I'm begging the PTA for new library books, but the football field has
Astroturf.

I'm not bitter, though.

Unfortunately, there was one thing that was threatening to put a damper on the
kids' enthusiasm, and it was that one tiny hurdle that was sending the poor
seniors into the library, begging for my assistance.

Research papers.

Mr. Berty was requiring an essay on the central conflicts found within Romeo and
Juliet, and while the assignment had been assigned over three weeks ago, the
seniors had put it off until the last minute, and it was due Monday. Mr. Berty,
who was not known for his compassion, had refused to change the due date even
with the homecoming ceremony looming on the calendar. The pleas of the
football team had fallen on deaf ears, and for the past two days, my library had
been flooded with desperate players begging me to help them make sense of
Shakespeare.

Truthfully, I was grateful for the distraction. The high school library is rarely a
buzz of activity, so I was happy that so many students were using the library for
something more than just a quiet place to read. I was also happy to have the
interruption to my normal routine because my normal routine consisted of sitting
at the check-out counter and relentlessly checking my email.

I had seen the movie You've Got Mail. I had heard the horror stories of meeting
someone online only to meet them in real-life and finding out that they were
psychopaths. But there was something about my music man that I found
completely fascinating.

It happened completely by accident. I'd sent an email to a book vendor in
Seattle, whose email address was MusicMan25(at)gmail(dot)com. It was one
freak typing mistake – a five instead of a six on the end of the name – that had
introduced me to the man with whom I'd been chatting for the past month. His
initial reply to me had been one of confusion, and once we'd figured out that I'd
sent my inquiry to the wrong address – he had then complimented me on my
choice of books, which then began a huge discussion that was still going on one
month later.

We talked about nothing.

We talked about everything.

We kept it simple and impersonal. I didn't know his name, and he didn't know
mine. We didn't share stories about work or anything remotely mundane like
that. Instead, we talked about literature and music. We talked about movies and
favorite vacation spots and places we really wanted to see but were too afraid to
go. We talked about the colors of the leaves and the flowers that were blooming
behind my house. We talked about our hopes and dreams, and sometimes, we
talked about our fears.

He ended each email to me with his reading material for the day, and I ended
mine with a song that fit my mood. It was our way of establishing a connection to
the other. Our choices of music and books always led to in-depth discussions

about both of our passions, and we'd found that we shared many of the same
favorites.

It was odd – having such a strong connection with someone whose name was a
mystery – but it was effortless. It was safe. The man on the other side of the
computer screen couldn't hurt me or break my heart.

He was pretty perfect.

And handsome.

I couldn't be certain, of course, but I was pretty sure he was handsome.

Not that it mattered in the least. It wasn't as if we'd ever come face-to-face, so I
didn't have to concern myself with something as shallow as looks. I didn't have to
worry about what I was wearing or if my hair looked particularly crappy today. I
didn't have to be concerned that he was middle-aged and balding. None of that
mattered. Not with him.

The next hour was spent helping students search the online database for any
relevant sources. I nearly gave the quarterback, a sweet kid named Henry, a
heart attack when I told him that it would probably benefit him and his grade if
he actually read Romeo and Juliet before trying to attempt his paper.

"But…but…it's homecoming weekend, Miss Swan," Henry whined. He was
dangerously close to tears.

"I understand," I nodded sympathetically. "It's such a shame that Mr. Berty only
assigned this paper three weeks ago."

"I know, right?"

My sarcasm was clearly lost on him.

The bell rang, sending the kids scurrying toward their next class. Once again, the
library was silent. I shelved a few journals and an encyclopedia devoted to British
playwrights before heading back to the check-out counter. A quick glance at the
screen brought a smile to my face, and I tapped the mouse.

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: Rain

Patty Griffin is a songwriting genius and has a phenomenal voice. So few people
know about her, but I'm not surprised that you do. Maybe it's good that she isn't
so well known. That way, she can keep writing what she wants and singing what
she wants, and she doesn't have to conform to what the all-mighty label wants.

But enough about my bitterness. :)

It rains here all the time. I had no idea when I moved out here that I was moving
to one of the wettest places in the continental United States. We must live close
to each other. What if we found out that we lived in the same state? Or even the
same town? I'm pretty sure we don't live in the same town. Two people who have
this kind of crazy online connection would surely have found each other in the
real world, right?

Your dad sounds like my mother. She's patient and kind. She makes the best
cookies and always makes things beautiful, especially during the holidays. She
has the purest heart of anyone I've ever known. I've disappointed her so many
times, and yet, she loves me. It's astounding, really.

I started reading one of the books you suggested. I haven't been able to read
much today because work is crazy, but I've managed to read a few chapters in
between practice. Hopefully, after tonight is over, I can spend the weekend
listening to the rain and reading. You should have warned me that it was over
three hundred pages long. I might get it finished by Christmas. You will not,
however, under any circumstances, convince me to read Harry Potter. It's not
happening.

Ever.

What I'm Reading: Cash - The Autobiography

I couldn't help but smile. I had a feeling he'd be a Johnny Cash fan.

I was just getting ready to reply when the library door swung open, and I let out
a quiet groan as the band director walked through the door.

"I heard that!" His bellowing voice drifted in the air as he made his way toward
the daily newspapers.

"I meant for you to!" I yelled right back.

I watched through narrow eyes as he made an absolute mess of my newspaper
shelf. He did it on purpose.

Edward Cullen absolutely lived to irritate me.

Mr. Cullen was the new kid on the block. He'd just started teaching this year at
Forks High after transferring from a private school in Chicago. He was handsome,
in that infuriating I-know-I'm-hot sort of way. He was tall with a wild head of
bronze hair and bright green eyes, and apparently, his jaw alone was worthy of
praise.

Jawporn, Jessica called it.

She and Lauren – both math teachers – became swooning teenagers whenever
the man was within earshot, and it was slightly nauseating to watch. He totally
encouraged it, with his infuriating good looks and crooked smile, but to my
knowledge, he hadn't dated either of them. Even worse, it wasn't just the female
faculty that had a crush on the new music teacher. The band program had tripled
in size since his arrival.

All girls, naturally.

"Where is yesterday's issue of the Seattle Times?"

I rolled my eyes. "Probably in the band room where you left it. Or don't you
remember stealing it yesterday?"

He flashed his innocent smile at me.

"I never steal," Edward replied smoothly, but I refused to be charmed.

"When you take something and don't return it, that's stealing."

I could feel his eyes on me as I straightened a shelf of magazines.

"You don't like me much, do you?"

"I like you just fine," I said. I found an out-of-date issue of Time and quickly
tossed it aside. "Why are you still here? Don't you have a trombone to tune or
something?"

"I had to take a break," Edward groaned irritably as he grabbed a USA Today and
made himself comfortable at one of the tables. "If I hear the school song one
more time, I'm going to stab myself in the eye with my baton."

I could sympathize because the school song really was atrocious. It was dated
and boring, but the principal required it to be played at all sporting events.
Homecoming was no exception.

"It is pretty bad," I acknowledged. "We were forced to sing it at graduation. Be
thankful you aren't the choir director."

He looked up from his paper. "You graduated from here?"

"Forks born and raised," I nodded.

A few students walked in, putting a halt to our conversation. Carrie, a sweet girl
who loved to read almost as much as I did, placed a book in the book return
while her friend made her way toward the magazines. When both girls saw
Edward reading his newspaper, they immediately dissolved into a fit of giggles
before running out the door. He ignored them while I rolled my eyes and made
my way back to my computer.

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Harry Potter

I knew you would enjoy the Cash autobiography. As for Harry…we'll see. :) I can
be very convincing when I want to be.

We couldn't possibly live in the same town. I think you're right. Two people who
can form this type of friendship through the Internet would surely have stumbled
upon each other in the real world. I suppose we could tell each other where we
lived, but I kind of like the mystery. I imagine that you live in the country and
that you sit on your front porch in your rocking chair and play your guitar until
the wee hours of the morning.

You just seem like a front porch kind of guy.

The rain seems to be ending, for now anyway. This is good news for my little
hometown. It's an important night here, and while we've grown accustomed to
working around the rain, it always makes life a little easier when the clouds
cooperate.

Enjoy your book – and your weekend.

What I'm Listening To: An annoying co-worker trying to get my attention. Oh,
and Iron and Wine's "Upward Over the Mountain."

"You like Iron and Wine?" Edward asked again, this time a little louder.

For just a moment, I panicked. He couldn't possibly see my screen, could he?

"Wh...why would you ask that?" I asked nervously.

"Umm, because I hear it streaming from your speakers?"

Oh.

I sighed irritably and hit send. Why wouldn't he go away? Surely there was a
teacher he could flirt with somewhere in this building.

Suddenly, Edward's attention was diverted to his phone, and I watched with
amused fascination as he gazed intently at the screen. Whatever he was reading
really held his attention, and I was grateful for the peace and quiet. When he
looked up again, he had the goofiest smile on his face.

"Good news?" I smirked.

"It's just interesting," Edward smiled as he rose from the table.

"What is?"

"A lot of people like Iron and Wine," Edward grinned, and the annoying man all
but skipped out of my library and down the hallway.

Chapter 2

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: People

I am constantly amazed by people.

For instance, I work with this girl. She's really friendly to everyone else and she's
amazing with kids. She has the sweetest eyes I've ever seen.

Yes, I stole that from Elton John. Do you like Elton John? "Your Song" is a definite
favorite.

Anyway, yeah…the sweetest eyes. Beautiful, soulful eyes.

She hates me, and I have absolutely no idea why.

"Miss Swan, is something wrong?"

I quickly closed the email window and glanced up. Carrie was standing at the
check-out counter with a concerned look on her face. I forced a smile and quickly
scanned her book.

"I'm fine, Carrie."

"You look a little mad."

"Do I?" I pretended to be surprised. Truthfully, after the day I'd had, I was
tempted to call a sub for the rest of the week.

Where to start.

My truck wouldn't start, and I'd had to call my dad who lived on the other side of
town. I was grateful for the lift, but I'd been twenty minutes late to work. Then,
the principal decided that I wasn't serving on enough school committees and
asked me to help with the Halloween Dance. I then learned – when he waltzed
into my library and stole yet another newspaper – that Edward was in charge of
the music for the dance and was going to suggest a masquerade ball to the
planning committee.

I hated masquerade balls.

I'd told him so, too.

"Who doesn't like masquerade balls?" Edward had asked in surprise.

"Me."

"May I ask why?"

"Because you're hiding behind a mask," I'd explained impatiently. "It's Halloween.
Isn't a costume enough?"

"But the mask is what makes it cool," Edward had replied excitedly. "It's
mysterious. You aren't quite sure who's behind the mask."

"I don't like mysteries," I'd muttered.

"You're a librarian," Edward had pointed out.

"So?"

"So you must like mysteries," he'd grinned at me as he leapt up from the table
and started searching the shelves. "See! Here's Stephen King's collected works."

Pulling one of the books off the shelf, he'd thumbed through the pages. I'd
planned to point out that it wasn't my personal shelf. I'd also planned to point out
that just because I was a librarian didn't mean that I had read or that I loved
every book in this library.

Thankfully, the bell had sounded and he'd run off to class.

With my book.

Thief.

An hour later, I'd received a faculty email that the Halloween dance would indeed
be a masquerade ball. I wasn't too surprised. After all, Jessica was the
chairperson of the planning committee. I was certain he'd rushed right to her,
batted his impossibly long eyelashes and displayed his beautiful jawporn.

The women in this school were ridiculous.

The students seemed happy, though, so I couldn't complain too much. Everyone
was excited and talking about the types of gowns and masks they hoped to buy.
During lunch, I'd even had to suck up my disappointment long enough to help
some of the girls do an online search for dress shops in Port Angeles.

And now, as if my day hadn't been shitty enough, I was now learning that
MusicMan26 has a crush on a girl at work.

Life is so unfair.

I sat down at the computer and tapped my nails on the mouse. I couldn't bring
myself to finish reading the email or even reply to it.

We were just friends.

Online friends.

I had absolutely no right to be jealous. He was intelligent and kind and of course
women would be interested in him. Why this particular girl was oblivious to his
charming personality was the real mystery. Was she a complete idiot?

She had to be.

I tried to imagine what she looked like. He said she had beautiful, soulful eyes.
They were probably a deep hazel or maybe a bright blue. They most certainly
wouldn't look like mine – brown and boring.

Wow, I'm bitter.

And jealous.

Sighing, I gave myself a pep talk. I should be a better friend. I should open the
email, finish reading it, and send him a supportive reply. That's what we do.

It was an uncomplicated friendship, and I needed to be a better friend.

I shuffled through my playlist and tapped Elton John. "Your Song" began to
stream through the speakers as I took a deep breath and maximized my email
window. I scanned the message and found where I'd left off.

She hates me, and I have absolutely no idea why.

I think I irritate her. I don't mean to. It just happens naturally because I love
how her eyes sparkle with fire whenever she's passionate about something.

What is it they say? Negative attention is still attention.

That's what I get from her – negative attention.

It's still attention, and I love it.

I have to stop pissing her off, though. She'll never agree to go out with me if I
continue to irritate the hell out of her.

Yeah, asking her out will be tricky, as well. I mean, we work together, and it's a
small town.

And she hates me.

Any advice?

What I'm Reading: Nothing because I'm too aggravated to concentrate.

I pressed reply and then leaned back in my chair, trying to find the words. What I
wanted to say was that this girl was an absolute moron and maybe he deserved
someone who treated him a little better.

Jealousy.

It was raging through my veins.

This couldn't be healthy at all.

With Elton John echoing in my ears, I typed out my reply. It was the most I could
manage with my trembling hands.

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Eyes

Tell her she has the sweetest eyes you've ever seen.

Chapter 3

What's the one thing a teacher loves more than anything after a long day at
school?

A faculty meeting after school.

The Halloween dance was now three weeks away, so Jessica decided that it was
necessary for the committee to get together and designate duties to one another.
So far, Mike, the gym teacher, had volunteered to help Lauren with refreshments.
Edward – who was able to use band practice as an excuse to miss this funfest –
had already been assigned to music.

"Bella, you'll help with decorations?" Jessica asked.

"Sure, Jess," I smiled, sighing with relief. Decorations seemed easy enough. Plus,
the cafeteria would have to be decorated before the ball. Maybe I could skip this
entire embarrassing event after all.

"Sorry I'm late," Edward announced as he rushed through the library door,
collapsing in the empty chair next to me. "What have I missed?"

Jessica and Lauren babbled over each other excitedly, desperate for his attention
and eager to bring him up to date. I turned my head toward Mike and rolled my
eyes, causing him to chuckle and lean close.

"You're the only female in this school who seems to be totally unaffected by
Cullen's presence," Mike whispered against my ear. He lingered for a minute
longer than necessary, and I heard Edward clear his throat beside me. Mike
winked at me and leaned back in his chair.

Great.

The meeting continued and my mind began to drift. It wasn't that I was
unaffected by Edward Cullen. He was undeniably handsome and charming. I just
refused to allow his good looks to override my common sense.

As Jessica droned on, I let my eyes linger to my right where Edward was
drumming his pencil against his notepad. He had long fingers, and I wondered if
he played piano. He definitely had a pianist's hands. The tapping became
persistent, almost as if he was anxious, and I wondered if he was as ready to get
out of here as much as I was. The pencil continued tapping noisily on the pad
until I finally kicked his foot under the table. Edward's eyes flashed to mine and
he shot me a sheepish grin.

"Sorry," he mouthed.

His eyes held mine, and I watched, mesmerized, as the tip of his tongue
moistened his bottom lip. He wasn't trying to be suggestive. He had a tendency
to do that whenever he was concentrating. I'd seen him do it many times – while
reading the newspaper, or checking his phone, or while scanning the library
shelves for something to read.

I hadn't meant to stare, honestly. It was just impossible to ignore.

"Bella, what do you think?"

I blinked rapidly and realized that everyone was looking at me.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Lauren suggested that perhaps you'd like to help Edward with the music, since
the decorating will be done beforehand."

I looked across the table to find Lauren smirking in my direction. I shot her a
glare.

"I think that's a great idea," Edward offered in encouragement. "I know for a fact
that Bella has great taste in music."

"How do you know that?" Jessica asked. Her voice was an octave higher than
normal as her eyes darted between the two of us.

"I play music in the library," I explained.

Lauren had a wicked smile on her face. "Are you in the library a lot, Edward?"

Edward shuffled nervously in his chair while Mike chuckled quietly at my side.

"Just during my planning period and sometimes at lunch," he replied softly. "It's
quiet in there."

"Quiet?" Jessica nearly screamed. "It can't be too quiet in there if she's playing
music all the time!"

It was pretty funny watching her have a panic attack over the fact that Edward
enjoyed spending his free time in the library. I knew that it was the promise of
free reading material and a few moments of solitude that attracted him to the
place, but I wasn't about to tell that to Jessica. Watching her seethe with
irrational jealousy was making this the very best faculty meeting ever.

And just because I'm a bitch, I decided to push her over the edge.

"Edward, I would be happy to help you with the music."

He smiled at me, one of those beautiful, megawatt, panty-dropping smiles that
made every other woman on campus worship at his feet.

He really was handsome.

It was a damn good thing I was so unaffected by him.

I was still marveling at how unaffected I was when he walked me to my truck and
asked me out for coffee.

"To discuss the music for the dance," Edward clarified.

"I hate coffee."

It wasn't an excuse. I really did hate coffee.

"That's right," he nodded. "You like tea. So let's have tea."

I couldn't help but laugh as I opened the door of my truck and tossed my purse
inside.

"I can't. If my truck starts, I'm supposed to drive it over to Jake's garage so that
he can check the battery and change the oil."

Edward suspiciously eyed my truck.

"Don't look at it like that," I warned him. "This truck is a classic."

"I don't doubt that in the least," Edward laughed as his eyes ghosted over the
vehicle. "What do you mean if it starts? Has it been giving you trouble?"

"The last few mornings, yeah," I explained with a shrug. "We're hoping it's just
the battery. Jake rebuilt the engine, so he'll be able to tell me if it's time to…"

I couldn't even form the words. Letting go of my truck would break my heart.

"Well, if it starts, will you at least let me follow you to the garage? Just to make
sure you get there safely? And then maybe, while Jake is changing the oil, we can
have that tea."

He looked so hopeful, and despite the voice screaming in my head, I found
myself nodding in agreement.

Tea was…weird.

While Jake changed the oil in my truck, Edward and I walked over to the diner.
We found a booth, ordered our drinks, and spent the next hour talking about
everything except the music for the dance. It was easy and comfortable and more
than once, I found myself comparing him to my MusicMan. Part of me actually felt
a little guilty, as if having tea with Edward was somehow cheating on the man
behind the computer screen. The guilt intensified when Edward walked me back
to the garage and asked if he could take me out to dinner sometime.

"I don't know," I said hesitantly.

He took a step closer to me.

"Why not, Bella?"

I looked around, but Jake wasn't around to save me. Not that I needed saving,
but wasn't your best friend supposed to run interference at a time like this? When
you were feeling confused and guilty and…tempted.

I was tempted to go out with Edward Cullen.

How the hell did that happen?

He stepped closer, his bright green eyes staring intently into mine. He took a
deep breath and opened his mouth slightly, but the words never came. Instead,
he lifted his hand and gently brushed his fingertips across my cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Bella."

And with that, he was gone.

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: Chicken

I am the biggest chickenshit in the world.

I had the perfect opportunity to tell her how I felt, and I didn't do it.

We had the best conversation – the first real conversation we've ever had without
teasing or arguing – and I couldn't do it. I couldn't tell her how I felt because,
truthfully, I don't really know.

This would be so much easier if she was you.

Do you ever think about that?

Do you ever wonder what might happen if we were to ever meet?

Is it wrong to think about that?

Is it wrong to admit that the entire time I was talking to her, I was really wishing
she was you?

What I'm Reading: The Stand

I closed my laptop and sighed heavily.

"I was wishing he was you, too," I whispered.

Chapter 4

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Sunshine

The sun is shining today.

Granted, in many parts of the world, this isn't breaking news. But in my little
town, it's a major event. It's normally cloudy and gray, but today, there's this big
yellow orb in the sky and it's lifted everyone's spirits and given me the confidence
to say what I wanted to say to you last night.

I didn't reply to your email last night because I didn't know what to say. But I'd
like to believe that we've always been honest with each other, so I've decided to
be truthful.

Yes, I've wondered what it might be like if we decided to meet. You're so easy to
talk to, and I wonder if it would be just as easy in real life. Then I wonder if it
could possibly ruin one of the best friendships I've ever had, which would
completely break my heart.

Last night, I too had a conversation with someone that confused me. For one, I'm
not even interested in him, and for another, I found myself comparing him to you
throughout our conversation. He and I usually argue because, quite honestly, he
drives me insane, but yesterday was different, and I'm not really sure how to
explain it.

It would be so much easier if he were you.

But life isn't easy, is it?

What I'm Listening To: Brighter than Sunshine by Aqualung

"You don't look so good," Rosalie stated bluntly as she handed me half of her
sandwich.

It was lunchtime and the library was empty except for a few sophomores who
were using the computers for research. At least, that's what they said they were
doing. I was too tired to care. Maybe they were emailing their internet crushes,
too.

"I didn't sleep well," I shrugged. Switching off my iPod, I thanked her for the
sandwich and led her over to one of the tables. Rosalie was such a paradox. She
was supermodel gorgeous – tall with long legs and shimmering blonde hair – and
the best auto-mechanics teacher Forks High had ever seen. Freshman boys
flocked to her class for the obvious reasons. By the end of the first day, those
same boys were at the counselor's office begging to drop the class after the

upperclassmen explained that, while she was hot, Ms. Hale wasn't a girly-girl and
was going to make their asses work.

"You look run down," Rosalie said as she sipped her soda. "Maybe you're catching
a cold."

"Maybe," I nodded. I wouldn't be surprised. There wasn't enough Germ-X in the
world when you were a high school librarian. "How's Emmett?"

Rosalie narrowed her eyes. "Infuriating, as usual."

I couldn't help but grin. Emmett McCarty was the head football coach and history
teacher.

Guess which of those he loved the most?

Emmett was fun, though. He was boisterous and loud and the kids loved him.

As did Rosalie, though she'd never admit it.

"Speaking of infuriating…" Rosalie nodded toward the door. My body stiffened
when I saw Edward walk through the door and head straight to the newspapers.

"He's not so bad," I mumbled as I took another bite.

"Oh?" Rosalie's eyebrow arched.

"Don't ask."

"You can't just say something like that and then not explain yourself," Rosalie
scoffed. "Spill, Swan."

I told her about the trip to Jake's garage and the conversation at the diner.

"Edward Cullen asked you out," Rosalie remarked.

I nodded.

"And?"

"And I said I didn't know."

Rosalie leaned back in her chair and stared at me thoughtfully.

"You know you're now the envy of every woman in this school. Jessica Stanley
would have a coronary."

"You can't tell anyone!" I whispered.

Rosalie and I glanced at Edward who had found a seat at a table across the room.

"He's like a love sick puppy," Rosalie giggled.

"He is not!"

"Look at him," she grinned. "Hunched over his paper, not daring to look over here
but wanting to be close to you despite the fact that you broke his heart last night.
It's kind of sweet, Bella."

"I did not break his heart," I argued. "He looks fine."

"He sure does," Rosalie agreed. "Of course, he always does."

"Stop it, Rose."

She chuckled. "Bella, it's just dinner. How long has it been since you've been on a
date?"

I didn't answer because she already knew that my last date was six months ago.
Against my better judgment, I'd gone out with Tyler Crowley, one of the science
teachers. He'd been the perfect gentleman until the end of the night. Apparently,
alcohol made Tyler a bit aggressive, and the evening ended with me slapping him
across the face.

Thankfully, he'd transferred to a high school in Olympia soon after.

"He's annoying," I offered as an excuse.

"How is he annoying?"

"He's in here all the time," I explained heatedly, "stealing my newspapers and my
books! He stole a Stephen King book from my shelf! And the women in this
school just fall at his feet like he's some Adonis and it's so ridiculous. I refuse to
be one of them, Rosalie."

She was smirking.

"Bella, did you ever think that maybe the reason he's here all the time is because
he likes you?"

"No…"

"Do you think that perhaps he steals your precious newspapers and books
because –" Rose glanced behind her shoulder to see who might be listening, " –
because he likes to piss you off?"

How confusing.

"He likes pissing me off? Why?"

"Because, in their hearts, men are still boys. That shit works when you're eight
years old and on the school playground. You find a girl you like and then you pick
on her to show her how much you like her."

"But we aren't eight years old."

"No, he certainly is not," Rosalie wiggled her eyebrows, making me laugh.
Edward's head snapped up from his newspaper. Our eyes met and lingered on
one another until he shot me a grin and returned his attention back to his paper.

"He's cute, Bella. Say yes."

I sighed heavily.

"I'm so confused," I admitted.

"I don't understand why," Rosalie shook her head. "This isn't about that guy
online, is it?"

"Maybe."

"You feel like you're cheating on him?"

It sounded crazy. I realized that.

"Bella, you don't even know his name."

"I'm aware of that, Rose."

Something in my tone must have alerted her that this was really upsetting me,
because her face softened.

"I'm sorry," Rosalie murmured. "I know he's a good friend. I would just hate to
see you put your life on hold for someone you may never meet. Especially when
there's this handsome, successful man who seems to be very interested in
getting to know you better."

The bell sounded, prompting the students on the computers to log off and for
Edward to rise from his table. I watched in astonishment as he returned the
newspaper to its proper place on the shelf.

He's never done that.

Smiling at me one last time, he made his way out of the library and down the
hallway toward the band room.

"I love my third period class," Rosalie grinned excitedly. "We're rebuilding a
carburetor today!"

"Well, that sounds fantastic."

"Do you know what else sounds fantastic?" Rose said as she rose from the table.
"A date with Edward Cullen. Say yes, Bella."

"I'll think about it."

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: Easy

You're right. Life isn't easy. I guess it makes you thankful for the things that are.

Like our conversations. Those are easy. I love that there are no expectations. No
mixed signals. It's just two adults, talking about whatever through the Internet.

And music. Music has always been easy for me. I learned to play piano when I
was six, and guitar by eight. Now, I can play pretty much any stringed
instrument. It was just something that came very easily to me. I wanted to
perform, but music is a hard life. I was a struggling artist for years – still am –
but I finally went back to school and got a degree so that I can still be involved
with music but actually make a living. It's the best of both worlds, really, and the
kids are great.

I'm sorry that you had a confusing conversation, and I wish I could promise that
meeting wouldn't change a thing. But I can't promise that. Who knows? Maybe it
would make it better. Maybe it would make it worse.

Life sucks sometimes.

What I'm Reading: The Stand

I closed the email without replying. I don't know what I was expecting. Maybe I
thought he'd suggest that we meet.

Would I have agreed?

I didn't know.

I sipped my tea, closing my eyes with relief as it soothed my throat.

Rose was right. I was getting sick.

Just as I was turning off the lights, Edward walked through my door. He stalked
toward the check-out counter with a determined look on his tired, handsome
face.

"Have dinner with me."

I couldn't help it. I laughed.

"'Hi' to you, too."

"I'm serious, Bella."

"You look serious," I teased. He really did. His face was set in a frown and his
forehead was creased as if I was this aggravating math problem that he couldn't
quite decipher.

He smiled then.

"Sorry," Edward replied softly. "Please have dinner with me, Bella. Any place you
want. We can even go to Port Angeles if you want."

"Why?" I asked, puzzled.

"Because if we go to the diner we're bound to run into students."

"No, I mean why do you want to go out with me?"

Now he really looked confused.

"Why wouldn't I?"

I shrugged. "Do you know how many women in this school would love to go out
with you?"

He honestly looked clueless.

"No, but that really doesn't matter," Edward said. "There's only one woman in
this school that I want to go out with."

He looked so sincere. What could it hurt, right?

Like Rose said, it was just dinner.

"Okay," I agreed.

Chapter 5

"How's your ravioli?"

"It's good," I replied as I reached for my water glass. The mushrooms felt good
against my sore throat. "I've never been to this restaurant."

"Neither have I," Edward admitted as he twirled spaghetti around his fork. "I've
passed by a lot, though. There's a music store on this block that offers discounts
to music teachers. It makes it well worth the drive."

We ate in a comfortable silence. In between bites, we'd talk about school. He
seemed surprised to learn that every female in the teacher was in love with him.

"That's not true," he scoffed, clearly embarrassed.

"And the teenage girls," I clarified. "You have to know the effect you have on
people."

The waitress arrived, refilling his wine glass and asking if he'd like anything else.
She ignored me completely, which only proved my point.

"Bella, would you like anything?" Edward asked politely.

The waitress begrudgingly acknowledged my presence, and I shook my head no.

"See?" I smirked after she walked away. "I was invisible."

"You could never be invisible," Edward murmured. His eyes burned as they stared
into mine.

Blinking rapidly, I quickly swallowed my ravioli and reached for my glass.

"And I don't know the effect I have on people," Edward said, returning to our
conversation. "Take you for instance. I have absolutely no idea the effect I have
on you."

I decided to go for honesty.

"You annoy me most of the time," I admitted.

He chuckled. "Is that so?"

I nodded and speared a mushroom with my fork before popping it into my mouth.

"Because I steal your newspapers?"

"And my books," I reminded him. "There's a Stephen King book that's
mysteriously missing from my shelf."

"I did return your newspaper today," Edward pointed out.

"A first," I smirked.

"I'll make you a deal," Edward said quietly. "Go to a movie with me tomorrow
night and I promise to always return your newspapers to their proper place on
the shelf."

"It's Friday. Isn't there a football game?"

"No, it's an off week."

Which meant there would be nothing for the kids in Forks to do except go to the
movies.

"We'll come back to Port Angeles," Edward replied, reading my mind. "I'd like to
spend some time in the music store anyway, and I know there's a couple of good
bookstores close by."

How did he know that bookstore was the magic word?

"How do you know that you'll even want a second date?" I asked, teasing slightly.
"I mean, the first date isn't even over yet."

Edward grinned at me before taking a sip of his wine. Placing the glass back on
the table, he gazed at me intently.

"I think the first date is going amazingly well, don't you?"

His eyes were a deep green, and they were making me a little dizzy.

I would not be one of those women.

"So far, yes."

"Are you just waiting for me to screw up?"

"No," I replied. "I'm really just waiting for us to start arguing. That's normally
what we do."

"We didn't argue yesterday at the diner," Edward reminded me.

"Another first," I grinned.

"Another first," Edward nodded and laughed. "I have to admit. I actually like
arguing with you."

So Rosalie was right. He did enjoy it.

"Why would you like that?"

"Because you're incredibly cute when you're pissed off."

I considered that as I drained my glass. I really wished it was wine, but I knew
I'd need cold medicine later tonight.

Our waitress returned, fluttering her fake eyelashes at Edward. His eyes,
however, were fixated on me. Clearly, the man had no idea how attractive he
was. Or, if he did, he didn't care. He'd had every opportunity to flirt with the very
willing waitress, and he had his pick of any woman at school.

But he was with me.

I couldn't help but smile, just a little.

He paid the bill and helped me into my jacket. As we walked out into the cool Port
Angeles air, he offered me his arm, and I took it as we walked toward his car.

The conversation came easily as we made our way back to Forks. He even let me
play with his iPod, and I was excited to find so many of my favorite artists on his
playlists.

The car came to a stop, and I was actually a little disappointed when I looked out
the window and realized that we were parked in my driveway.

"I'll walk you up," Edward offered, and before I could protest, he was out his door
and opening mine. Again, he offered his arm, and I linked my arm through his as
we walked up the steps. I dug through my bag for my keys and slipped it into the
lock before turning toward him.

"Tonight was really nice," I smiled at him. "Thank you."

"Thank you, Bella."

He stepped closer, and the strangest feeling washed over me – as if a crackling of
heat was shooting across my skin. It made me a little lightheaded, and I leaned
back against my door for support.

"So, about that second date…" Edward said softly. His eyes flickered to my lips.
Without thinking, I licked mine, and I watched in fascination as his eyes
darkened.

What the hell is happening?

"A movie," I said, my voice slightly rough. He leaned a little closer and lifted his
hand, brushing it against my cheek.

"Your skin is so soft," Edward whispered. "Has anyone ever told you that?"

Unable to speak, I shook my head no.

"Please go out with me tomorrow night."

"Okay," I said.

He was standing so close and I could feel the heat radiating from him. He smiled
and let his hand drop, and the tingling sensation on my cheek felt as if I'd been
branded by his tender touch.

"I'll pick you up after school," Edward smiled down at me. "Around six?"

"Okay."

One word responses was really all I could manage.

"See you tomorrow, Bella."

"Good night, Edward."

In a complete daze, I walked inside, locking the door behind me.

What was that?

I had just changed in my pajamas and taken some cold medicine when my phone
rang. I checked the caller ID and sighed.

"Hi, Rosalie."

"Are you alone?"

"Yes."

"Damn," she groaned. "I was hoping you'd say no."

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my laptop as I climbed into bed.

"I'm hanging up now."

"No! Tell me about your date," she begged.

"How did you know that I even had one?"

"One of Emmett's players was driving by your house and saw you climbing out of
Edward's car. The whole team knows by now."

"That was literally ten minutes ago."

"I know," Rosalie chuckled. "Electronic devices are wonderful things."

Great.

"So…?"

I sighed. Of course she'd want details.

"So, it was nice."

"Just nice?"

"Yes, it was nice," I said, irritated. "We went to Port Angeles for dinner."

"Did you kiss?"

"No.

"Did you want to?"

I was silent for too long.

"My god, you are human."

"I don't know what happened," I admitted with a tired sigh. "One minute he was
walking me to my door and the next he was telling me that my skin was soft,
and…"

"So there was touching involved?"

She sounded absolutely thrilled.

"Don't get excited. He just touched my cheek," I explained.

"Oh, hmm. Well, that's still sweet."

"Yeah, it was."

"Someone sweet is exactly what you need," Rose stated. "So now what?"

"So now I'm going to bed."

"Bella…"

"We're going to a movie tomorrow night."

"Please say you're going out of town."

"We are, although I'm not sure it really matters," I muttered. "Apparently we'll
have to go all the way to Seattle to watch a movie to avoid the small-town
gossip."

"You're doing nothing wrong," Rosalie reminded me.

"I know."

We said goodnight and I powered up my laptop. I still needed to reply to my
MusicMan although I really had no idea what to say. I was surprised to find a new
mail from him in my inbox, sent just moments ago.

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: Love

Have you ever been in love?

Because I think maybe I am.

I'm sorry to bother you with this. I know it's probably weird considering our
friendship, but I needed to talk to someone. I need some perspective.

But how can I find perspective when she's all I can see?

I closed the email without replying once again. What could I possibly say? That a
part of me was relieved because it made me feel a little less guilty about going
out with Edward? Or, that a bigger part of me – the selfish side of my heart – was
jealous because I wished that someone was that passionate about me?

The cold medicine began to make me groggy, so I gently placed the laptop on the
opposite side of the bed and snuggled beneath the covers.

Chapter 6

"Hello?" I croaked into the phone.

"Bella, are you okay?" Rosalie asked with concern. "I saw the sub in the library."

"No, I'm dying."

So I was being a little dramatic, but it wasn't far from the truth. I'd been up most
of the night – coughing, sniffling, and sneezing. My fever was 101.3 and I felt as
if I'd been hit by a truck. Charlie had arrived at dawn with more cold medicine
and a promise to check on me around lunchtime.

"Can I bring you anything?"

Rose really was a great friend.

"No, you don't need my germs," I said hoarsely, reaching for my glass of juice.
"Dad will be by later."

"Well, be glad you aren't here," Rose said quietly. "You and Edward are the talk
of the school."

I groaned weakly. Everyone probably thought I was faking in an attempt to avoid
the knowing glances and the insufferable gossip. One look at my tissue-filled
bedroom and they'd know the truth.

"He asked about you," Rosalie whispered. She was probably in the teacher's
lounge, a definite hotbed of gossip.

"Who, Edward?"

"Yes," she replied.

"I'll need to call him," I said tiredly before dissolving into another coughing fit.

"I'll let him know you're sick," she offered.

"Thanks."

I promised to call if I needed anything before hanging up the phone and
collapsing back against the pillows.

Everything ached.

Everything was fuzzy.

Throughout the day, I drifted in and out of sleep. When I did manage to snooze, I
had the strangest dreams about green eyes and Stephen King novels.

Stupid fever.

As promised, Charlie came by with lunch from the diner. It smelled delicious, but
I couldn't eat for the constant coughing and sneezing.

Needless to say, Dad didn't stay long.

By late afternoon, my fever was a little better and I actually felt hungry, so I
dragged myself out of bed. I didn't feel strong enough to take a shower; instead,
I just tied a robe around me and made my way toward the kitchen. I'd just
opened the fridge when I heard a knock at the door.

Slowly, I made my way to the living room and didn't bother to look at myself in
the mirror before opening the door.

I immediately regretted that decision.

"You look terrible."

"Such flattery," I sighed wearily. "What are you doing here, Edward?"

"I brought soup," he replied, lifting a take-out bag from the diner. "Rosalie said
you liked chicken noodle. If you don't, I can go back and get something else.
Anything you want."

He couldn't possibly be this kind.

"That was uh…really nice of you," I stammered, reaching for the bag. "I really
appreciate it."

"Can I come in?" Edward asked, all hopeful and sweet.

"I'm germ infested," I argued. I didn't mention the fact that I hadn't showered
and looked like something out of a horror movie.

"I don't care," he said. "Besides, you owe me a date."

"Yeah, about that…I meant to call you. That's not happening tonight."

"It can still happen," Edward replied. "I brought dinner, and I'm sure there's a
movie on television that we can watch. It'll be fine."

Too tired to fight with him, I sighed deeply and stepped away from the door.

"Go sit," Edward commanded. "I'll bring your dinner to the couch."

"But you don't know your way around my kitchen."

"It's just bowls and spoons, Bella. I think I can manage."

He grinned at me and pointed toward the sofa. I rolled my eyes and made my
way over to the couch, collapsing against the cushions. I heard him shuffling
around in the other room, opening and closing drawers, until finally he appeared
with two bowls of steaming hot soup.

My stomach rumbled.

"Hungry?" Edward smirked as he sat down next to me and handed me the bowl.

"Starving, actually," I muttered.

He talked about his day at school while I ate. The warm soup soothed my
scratchy throat, and I finished it in record time.

"More?"

"Not right now," I shook my head. "I think it's time for more medicine, though."

"I'll get it," he offered.

"It's on my nightstand," I said. "First room on the right."

Dutifully, he jumped up. When he returned, he was holding my medicine plus a
glass of juice.

"Thanks."

"I'll be honest," Edward admitted quietly, dropping back onto the sofa as I took
my meds. "When I got to school and you weren't there, I thought maybe you
were avoiding me."

"Why would I avoid you?"

"The gossip is a little brutal," he smiled shyly. "Apparently Henry Brooks saw us
together last night. He texted the rest of the football team, who in turn texted the
rest of the school. When I got to the band room this morning, my brass and
percussion sections were waiting for me, giving me high fives and slapping me on
the back. It was a little weird."

"I'm so glad they approve," I laughed.

"You say that I don't realize how much I affect people," Edward grinned, "but I
think you have a few admirers of your own within the student body."

"I do not," I scoffed.

Edward studied my face until I forced myself to look away.

Why does he do that?

"You don't see yourself clearly at all," he said gently. "You're beyond beautiful.
Surely you know that."

I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the sofa. I didn't have the strength to
argue with this man. Sensing a change in subject was in order, he glanced
around the living room.

"Where's your remote?"

"Probably under my ass. Do you want to check?"

I had no idea where that came from. Maybe I needed to take my temperature
again.

"Tempting, but I'd rather touch your ass when you're feeling a little better."

And now we were flirting. What the hell?

The remote was actually between the cushions, and I handed it to him without a
fight. I couldn't care less what he watched. I just wanted to lean back and close
my eyes, just for a little bit…

"Bella?"

I was warm and comfortable and I didn't want to open my eyes.

"Sweetheart, let me take you to bed."

My eyes flew open. I wasn't sure how it had happened, but I was snuggled
against his side.

"What?"

"You've been asleep for nearly two hours," Edward grinned down at me. "Come
on, I'll help you to bed."

"Two hours?" I asked in disbelief. I'd only meant to close my eyes for a second.
"And you stayed?"

"I stayed," he murmured softly, gazing down at me.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because you felt really warm and I wanted to make sure you were okay,"
Edward replied as he brushed his hand against my forehead. "You feel much
cooler now. Those meds must be doing their job."

He was touching me again, and I liked it…again.

"Thank you for the soup."

"You're very welcome, Bella."

"I'm sorry about our date."

"You'll make it up to me," he grinned.

I was still snuggled up against his side, and his arm was still wrapped around my
shoulder – neither of us in any hurry to move. I should have been appalled that
this beautiful man was seeing me with my snotty nose and my hair in knots. I
should be embarrassed that I was wearing a robe and that I probably smelled. He
was seeing me at my absolute worst, and yet he stayed.

"Why are you being so sweet to me?" I asked with a whisper.

He smiled at me. "Because I really like you, and you're sick."

"You like me?"

"Don't sound so surprised," he laughed lightly. "I like you a lot, actually."

"All we do is fight."

"That's not so true anymore," Edward said quietly.

As he stared deeply into my eyes, I realized he was right.

"Come on, I'll help you to bed."

He followed me into my bedroom, which should have been uncomfortable, but it
wasn't at all. I kept the robe on as I climbed into bed. I adjusted the blanket
while Edward placed my juice and meds back on the nightstand.

"Will you call me if you need anything?"

"I don't have your number."

"That's right, you don't," he grinned at me before looking around the room.
"Where's your cell?"

"Umm…"

Instead, I gave him my number, and he punched it into his phone. Immediately,
my phone vibrated from deep within the blankets.

"Found it," I smirked, fishing it out from beneath the blankets.

"Now you have my number. Will you call me if you need anything?"

"Yes, Edward."

"Promise me."

His voice was quiet and determined, and just a little sexy.

"I promise," I replied.

Satisfied, he tucked the blanket around me. He looked down at me, and my
breath hitched when I saw the look in his eyes. They were resolute, as if he'd just
made a very important decision.

A moment later, his lips were pressed against my forehead. He lingered there,
and my eyes closed as his scent and his warmth flowed through me, leaving me
breathless. When he did pull away, he didn't go far. Instead, he hovered above
me, pressing his forehead against mine.

"Feel better, Bella," he whispered softly.

"Thanks for taking care of me," I replied.

After he left, I was wide awake – too confused and alert to actually rest – so I
grabbed my laptop. I wanted to check my school email, but I also needed to reply
to my MusicMan.

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Colds

I'm sorry I've been so slow to respond. I've had a terrible cold and been in bed
most of the day.

I find myself confused tonight. I'm confused because I'm jacked up on cold
medicine, but that's not the only reason.

The truth is – there's this guy. I mentioned him before. The guy I argue with all
the time. The guy that I'm not interested in at all.

Well, that's a lie. I didn't mean to lie because, at the time, I sincerely believed
that I wasn't interested in him. But we had our first date last night, and it was
nice. It was more than nice, actually. And we were supposed to have a second
date tonight, but my cold put a damper on those plans. But he came over anyway
– brought me soup and held me while I slept. I was so gross – snotty and sneezy
and smelly – and he held me anyway. He took care of me.

No man, besides my father, has ever taken care of me.

I want to say it's complicated, but it's really not. It's actually effortless, and that's
a little scary. It's almost as effortless as talking with you.

Your friendship is so important to me, but if I find myself wishing he was you,
and you find yourself wishing she was me, then maybe we need to think about
that.

Your words are so sweet, and I'm sure the girl you're in love with would love to
hear them.

Tell her.

Chapter 7

Tell her.

I couldn't help but smile as I recalled the last line of her email.

Telling her seemed so simple, in theory. But in reality, it would change
everything.

It would change my friendship with Bookworm07 – a relationship that had started
out innocently enough but had taken a drastic turn when I realized that my email
friend was actually the beautiful school librarian.

Connecting the dots had been simple enough. Bella had mistakenly sent a book
order to my personal email address. She'd naturally included her name, along
with the school's contact information. Granted, the honest thing to have done
would have been to admit that she'd emailed her co-worker. We could have
laughed it off as a happy coincidence and continued with our professional
relationship.

But did I do that?

No.

I'd been attracted to Bella since my first day at Forks High School. No matter how
many times I'd tried to get to know her, she'd completely blown me off.

I'd flirt.

I'd tease.

I'd even tried to have a serious conversation or two.

Nothing worked.

Not until the emails.

With the emails, I'd been granted my wish to get to know her better. Maybe it
was wrong, but I was desperate, and I had every intention of telling her the
truth.

Eventually.

Over time, our emails became the best part of my day. She was so intelligent and
had the best taste in music. Through her messages, Bella allowed me little
glimpses into her life – small, uncensored moments that seemed so
inconsequential but only made me desperate to get to know her better.

I decided to start dropping little hints – such as the Iron and Wine reference. I'd
even hinted at my profession and stolen that hideous Stephen King novel from
her shelf.

She never made the connection, but I could understand why. We never talked
about anything remotely personal and we were both careful not to divulge names
or places. If it hadn't been for her contact information on that first email, I
wouldn't have had a clue. There were literally millions of people in the online
world. What were the odds that the girl behind the screen was the pretty girl in
the library?

I'd heard of people falling in love online. I'd just never put a lot of faith in those
types of relationships. Honestly, how could you possibly fall in love with someone
through a computer screen? Was it really possible to find your soul mate online?

I really hope so, because I think I've found mine.

Things were a little complicated at the moment. For one, Bella had finally agreed
to go out with me, and our first date had been fantastic. But with that date came
the overwhelming guilt.

She was my Bookworm07.

I was her MusicMan26.

And she had no idea.

That hadn't stopped me from asking her out again, and it didn't stop me from
taking her soup when she was sick, but yeah…there's some guilt there.

I would have to confess, and soon.

Would she hate me?

I was still worrying about it on Monday morning as I made my way into school.
After peeking into the library, and smiling when I saw her standing at the check-
out counter, I was racing toward the band room when a voice stopped me in my
tracks.

"Headed to Room 26?"

I glanced at the painted room number above my door before turning toward the
auto mechanics teacher.

"Good morning, Miss Hale," I smiled at her despite my anxiety. She was Bella's
best friend, after all, and the garage was on the other side of the school. Clearly,
she was here for a reason.

"Good morning, Mr. Cullen."

Her piercing blue eyes flickered between my room number and my face several
times before she finally smirked.

Could she possibly know?

"Isn't it funny," Rosalie replied, "how the most obvious signs are sometimes the
easiest to miss?"

Crap.

I cleared my throat nervously as her eyes studied the room number a few
moments longer.

"Take your room number for instance," she continued. "It's just a double digit
number…twenty-six…the next number in sequence. It's meaningless really – just
a simple way to identify which classroom is yours."

Her penetrating eyes unnerved me, and I dropped my gaze, suddenly becoming
very interested in my shoes.

"But sometimes," she continued, "there are meanings behind those random
numbers. For instance, did you know there are seven books in the Harry Potter
series?"

Shit.

"I know that, yes," I said quietly.

I hadn't known that, but then I'd asked Bella to explain the 07 part of
Bookworm07. Thankfully, she'd never asked for an explanation of mine.

"Numbers are truly fascinating," Rosalie concluded, nodding her head.

"Perhaps you should have been a math teacher, then," I retorted with a sigh.
"Are you looking for something, Rosalie?"

Her smile brightened.

"I think I've found it," Rosalie replied, "and I think you and I need to have a little
talk…MusicMan26."

Chapter 8

It's never fun to return to work after a kickass cold. For one thing, you're still not
feeling your best. For another, you always come back to a mess.

I'm a bit OCD when it comes to my library shelves. My student volunteers know
this. I want things to look neat. I want the spines displayed correctly and I want
every book to be in its proper place. So that's how I spent my first day back to
work – deep in the Fiction shelves, dusting and rearranging books. It was a quiet
morning, so I was managing to get quite a bit accomplished.

The weekend had been brutal. The fever was completely gone by Saturday
afternoon, but I'd still felt so exhausted. I hadn't managed to do any shopping or
laundry or anything else on my long list of things to do. The great friend that she
is, Rose had come over on Sunday and actually loaded my dishwasher for me. I'd
thanked her by giving her a glass, a bottle of wine, and my laptop.

She'd always wanted to know more about my MusicMan, but I'd been hesitant to
share him. It was much too hard to explain our relationship, and I kind of liked
that he was just mine. But so much had changed. I was now interested in Edward
and my MusicMan was in love with someone else, so I figured it couldn't hurt to
let her see a few of the emails.

"He's reading The Stand?" Rosalie had asked curiously.

Surprised, I'd glanced at the screen.

"I guess he is," I'd giggled. "I hadn't even noticed that. I'm not surprised, really.
He reads a lot of different stuff."

She'd grown quiet after that – which was very unlike Rose – but I'd shrugged it
off when she changed the subject. She'd polished off the wine, though, and I'd
called Emmett to drive her home.

"Good morning, Miss Swan."

I turned to find Carrie smiling at me.

"Hi, Carrie."

"Feeling better?"

"Much," I replied with a nod. "Are you looking for something?"

"I need something scary," Carrie mumbled, scrunching her nose in disgust. "You
know me, Miss Swan. I like sweet and romantic stories. I don't like blood and
gore."

Ahh, yes. Mr. Berty's reading assignment from the horror genre. It was his
Halloween tradition and one of the reasons my Stephen King and Dean Koontz
collections were so massive.

"Maybe Poe?" I suggested.

"He wants a novel," Carrie sighed. "It's so unfair. I love to read. You know I do.
But not when I'm forced to read something I don't like."

"I understand," I said with sympathy. "Let's see what we can find."

I led her to section K and pointed out a few of the novels that would be
considered horror. She flipped through a few of the pages of the first, and I
stifled my giggle when her eyes went wide and immediately put the book back on
the shelf in its proper position. I couldn't help but smile. Carrie liked to volunteer
in the library at lunch and she knew my compulsion.

"Too scary?"

"I'm a wimp, Miss Swan. I can't do this," she despaired.

"You can," I said. I scanned the titles, hoping to find something that might not
scare the crap out of her and discourage her from reading for the rest of her life.

"Have you seen Carrie?"

She made a face. "Is that the one with the pig blood at the prom?"

I nodded and handed her the paperback.

"I'm not suggesting you watch the movie instead," I clarified, "but if you've
already seen it, perhaps you can handle the book. At least you'd be prepared for
the horror elements. Of course there are differences between the movie and the
book, but at least it's something you're familiar with."

Carrie leafed through the pages while I adjusted a few of the books in that
section, and that's when my eyes fell upon a gaping hole, right there in the
Stephen King section.

Edward was a sweetheart, but he was still a book thief.

Realizing I didn't even know which book he'd stolen, I glanced over the titles. My
students always thought it was funny that I could tell, just by looking at the shelf,
which books were out of order or missing.

And that's when my stomach dropped.

"Miss Swan?"

It couldn't be.

"Miss Swan, are you okay?"

No.

No.

"There you are."

Rosalie's voice somehow permeated into my brain, but I couldn't look at her. I
couldn't tear my eyes away from the empty space on the shelf.

"I think she's still sick," Carrie whispered.

"I'll take care of her," Rose said, placing a gentle hand against my shoulder. "Can
you check yourself out, Carrie?"

"Yes."

Moments passed. I had no idea how many.

"Bella, don't panic."

Panic? I was so beyond panic it was almost laughable.

Almost.

"Let's sit you down."

I was pushed into a chair.

"Deep breaths, Bella."

I couldn't breathe. Everything was too tight. My blouse. My skirt. My glasses
perched on my face. Everything was too tight.

"The…Stand…"

I was truly gasping for air.

"I know."

My head swiveled in her direction.

"You know?"

"Calm down, Bella."

"What do you mean you know?"

"Let's get your breathing under control, and then I'll tell you."

For once, I was so thankful that the library was empty. Rosalie clasped my hand
while I struggled to inhale and exhale. It took a few minutes, but my heart finally
calmed.

"Tell me," I whispered.

Rosalie sighed heavily.

"Bella, you're my best friend and probably the smartest person I know, but
sometimes, you miss the things that are so obvious to everyone else."

"I don't want a lecture, Rose."

"And I'm not trying to give you one," she promised me. "I'm just saying that if
you'll take a moment and really examine those emails – and you'll think about
some recent events – you'll connect the dots." The bell rang. "Are you okay? Do
you want me to find a volunteer to cover the check-out counter?"

"No, I'm fine," I said, standing slowly.

After promising to come back at lunch, Rosalie headed to class while I made my
way back to the check-out counter and to my computer.

My shelves would have to wait.

With a shaky breath, I opened the emails from MusicMan26. Rosalie said if I
would really examine them, I'd be able to connect the dots.

Did I want to connect the dots?

I clicked on each message and let my eyes scan the screen. My heart thundered
in my chest as I read each and every line.

It rains here all the time. I had no idea when I moved out here that I was moving
to one of the wettest places in the continental United States.

I work with this girl. She's really friendly to everyone else and she's amazing with
kids. She has the sweetest eyes I've ever seen.

I think I irritate her. I don't mean to. It just happens naturally because I love
how her eyes sparkle with fire whenever she's passionate about something.

Yeah, asking her out will be tricky, as well. I mean, we work together, and it's a
small town.

We had the best conversation – the first real conversation we've ever had without
teasing or arguing – and I couldn't do it.

I finally went back to school and got a degree so that I can still be involved with
music but actually make a living. It's the best of both worlds, really, and the kids
are great.

Have you ever been in love? Because I think maybe I am. I know it's probably
weird considering our friendship, but I needed to talk to someone. I need some
perspective. But how can I find perspective when she's all I can see?

I blinked back my tears.

It was all here…

The rain in Forks.

Iron and Wine.

The constant arguments.

Working in the same place.

Tea at the diner.

Music and kids.

The Stand.

"Oh my god," I whispered shakily. My vision blurred as I tried to make the words
on the screen disappear.

It was all so obvious, and I'd never felt so stupid.

Edward was my MusicMan.

MusicMan was my Edward.

As if that wasn't mortifying enough, I suddenly had another thought.

How disappointed was he going to be when he realized that I was his Bookworm?

Chapter 9

My morning band classes were confused. A little excited, to be honest, but
completely confused.

It was their first free day.

Ever.

At exactly 8:05, I'd popped in a movie on Mozart and hid in the corner with my
phone in my hand, contemplating the enormity of what had just transpired
outside my classroom door.

"You're in love with Bella."

I nodded.

"You're MusicMan26."

"Yes." Would it really do any good to lie? "How….how did you figure it out?"

"Well, for one thing, I have eyes," Rosalie muttered. "Whenever you stalk the
library, you can't keep your eyes off her."

"I don't stalk."

"You stalk," she said with a firm nod, "and I read your emails. You weren't
exactly being all stealth and mysterious."

I was a little upset that Bella had shared those.

"Just yesterday," Rosalie quickly explained. "It was the first time she'd ever
shown them to me. She figured it was safe. After all, her email crush had fallen in
love with another, and Bella was having conflicting feelings about you. She didn't
see the harm."

Bella was having conflicting feelings about me. I wasn't sure if that was a good
thing or not.

"And then you said you were reading The Stand, and Bella had mentioned that
you'd stolen a Stephen King book from her library. She didn't connect the dots,
but I did."

"Does she know…." I began to ask, but Rosalie was already shaking her head.

"Bella is one of the most intelligent women I've ever met, but when it comes to
the most obvious things, she's a little obtuse. I'd like to blame it on reading all
those books, but the simple fact is that she's not the most confident person on
the planet. Never in a million years would she assume that someone like you
could possibly be interested in her. So no, she's never made the connection."

This confused me.

"What do you mean, someone like me?"

Rosalie smiled softly. "Surely you've noticed the women in this building lusting
over you. I'm pretty sure Stanley and Mallory will scratch each other's eyeballs
out before the school year comes to an end. You're a good looking guy, Edward.
You're not my type at all, but you're cute."

I smiled at that. At the homecoming game, I'd caught Rosalie and Emmett
sneaking kisses down at the football stadium. No, I wouldn't be her type at all.

"Am I Bella's type?"

"Yeah," Rosalie sighed. "Although I'm pretty sure she's going to be pissed when
she finally figures it all out."

"I've always been afraid of that," I admitted. "So on a scale of one to ten, just
how mad will she be?"

"That depends. How long have you known that she was Bookworm?"

I dropped my gaze to the floor and shuffled my feet.

"Since the very first email."

She actually laughed, but it wasn't a humorous sound.

"Ten," she replied. "And ten probably won't be high enough. The scale might
possibly explode."

"Great," I mumbled. "So what am I going to do?"

"You're going to tell her the truth, for starters," Rosalie stated frankly. "I wouldn't
plan for much more than that at this point. See how she takes the news, and
then you can formulate some plan to get yourself out of the mess you've
created."

"You'll help me?"

"I'll help Bella," she said. "She's going to feel betrayed and embarrassed and just
plain pissed, so she's going to need me once you tell her. But I'll give you some
advice, if you want it."

"I do."

I sounded so hopeful.

And desperate.

"From this moment forward, you have to be honest with her," Rosalie instructed
me. "Email her. You're good at that sappy shit. Email her, spill your guts, and tell
her the truth."

"Tell her through email?" I asked, surprised. "I mean, isn't that a little
impersonal?"

Rosalie tilted her head to the side, studying me closely. "Now you're worried
about being impersonal?"

Good point.

That had been three hours ago. Classes streamed in and out of the band room
while I continued staring at my phone, trying to find the words.

What could I say?

"I think you're beautiful."

"I love the way your hair shimmers in the fluorescent lights."

"I want to push you up against one of your bookshelves and kiss you hungrily
until you beg me to – "

The bell sounded, ripping me away from that particular fantasy. The kids didn't
even say goodbye as they made their way to lunch.

Great, I'm a terrible teacher and a stalker.

Rosalie had promised not to say anything to Bella, so I figured it was safe to
make my daily jog to the library. Until I could decide what to say, I decided it'd
be best to just go on as if everything was normal. We were friends now. I could
stop by the library to ask how she was feeling, right? I could even uphold my
tradition and steal her newspaper. For today, nothing had to change. Nothing had
to be different.

But as soon as I stepped inside the library, I knew that everything had changed.

Like magnets, my eyes settled on Bella, sitting at the check-out counter and
staring blankly at her computer screen. Her head shot up as the door closed
behind me, and I saw her eyes flicker with so many different emotions it was
hard to keep up with all of them.

Sadness.

Anger.

And finally, fear.

Stunned, I didn't move an inch away from the door. Not even when she calmly
stood from her chair and walked past me, locking the library door behind her. A
quick glance around the library assured me that we were alone.

This could be good.

Bella suddenly appeared at my side, and my eyes met hers.

No.

This wasn't good at all.

Either Rosalie broke her promise, or Bella had finally made the connection, but
somehow, she knew the truth.

"Bella, I – "

"Don't," she whispered. She then walked over to a secluded corner of the library
– free of windows and shrouded with tall bookshelves. Despite my anxiety, I
wondered how many upperclassmen had used this private corner for more than
just studying, but that thought quickly vanished from my mind when Bella told
me to sit.

"I feel like I'm going through the stages of grief," Bella said softly.

"Bella, please…"

"No," she said, lifting her hand. "Let me say this before I lose my nerve. I know
that you know who I am. You know I'm Bookworm07. My last email was…well,
there's just no way that you couldn't know."

I nodded. If I hadn't known, her last email certainly would have tipped me off.

"At first, I was stunned," Bella admitted. "I mean, what were the chances that
you were…that I was…" She shook her head, trying to make sense of it. "I feel so
stupid. You don't understand how completely stupid I feel. All the signs were
there, and I'd missed them. Growing up, my mom had always said that my head
was constantly in the clouds because I read so much, and that had always
offended me. But she's right. The signs were right there, and I'd missed all of
them."

"Your mom is wrong," I said in her defense. "You're the smartest person I know,
Bella."

She took a deep breath and stared down at her hands.

"I've spent the morning studying our emails," Bella said quietly. "I've dissected
every line…every last word. I told myself to really concentrate. To really read
between the lines, so that's what I did. It took me a while to accept it, but one
thing is abundantly clear."

"What's that?" I asked nervously.

"You knew," Bella said without an ounce of emotion. "You knew I was
Bookworm07."

I closed my eyes.

"Yes," I admitted with a whisper.

She grew silent then, but our eyes never left each other's faces. After a few
minutes, she finally looked back down at the table.

"Did you mean it?"

I slid my chair closer, desperate to be within touching distance.

"Did I mean what, Bella?"

"Everything," she said, her eyes gazing into mine. "Did you mean everything that
you said in those emails?"

"I meant every word," I promised her.

"You love me?"

Bravely, I placed my fingers along her wrist before sliding my hand along hers.

"I love you," I whispered.

I watched our hands and she allowed me to lace her fingers with mine.

"Then I need to know one thing," she said.

"Anything."

"The absolute truth."

"I promise, Bella."

Her deep brown eyes found mine.

"How long have you known?" Bella asked. "How long have you known that I was
Bookworm?"

This was it. The answer to this question could seal my fate, and I felt my stomach
drop, but I'd promised to be honest.

"Since the very first email," I admitted with a sigh.

Bella inhaled sharply, and fire flashed in her beautiful brown eyes as she angrily
snatched her hand away.

Rosalie had been right.

A scale of one to ten wasn't nearly high enough.

Chapter 10

So, Miss Swan," Henry grinned at me as I scanned his book. "I hear you and Mr.
Cullen are –"

"Mr. Cullen and I are what?" I snapped. His eyes arched in surprise. After all, I
was the peace-loving librarian. I never raised my voice. "Get to class before I tell
your coach to make you run laps."

He must have believed me, because he grabbed his book and jogged out of the
library.

I exhaled heavily and closed my eyes. Pushing my glasses on top of my head, I
pressed my fingers against the bridge of my nose and gently squeezed, hoping
the pressure would somehow alleviate the headache I'd had all day. I glanced up
at the clock and was grateful to see that it was nearly three.

This day couldn't end soon enough.

After Edward had admitted that he'd known along that I was Bookworm07, I'd
tossed him out of my library. I didn't want to see him. I didn't want to think
about him. I didn't want him to think about me and I definitely didn't want him to
think about what an absolute idiot I'd been all this time.

I was mortified, embarrassed, and so, so stupid.

He'd left without a fight, but my email inbox was full. I couldn't bring myself to
open any of the messages. Maybe later – when I was safe in my house with a

bottle of wine nearby, but not now. Not when I was surrounded by student and
colleagues and –

"Just a reminder that the Halloween committee will be meeting in the library
immediately after school," the principal announced over the intercom.

"Damn it," I muttered under my breath. I quickly shut down the computer and
grabbed my purse. Rushing for the door, I'd nearly made my escape when Jessica
suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"We have a meeting." Her tone was flat and frosty and unbelievably jealous.
Naturally, she knew. The entire faculty probably knew by now that the librarian
and the band director had gone out to dinner.

I bet Stanley would shit a brick if she knew that Edward had nursed you back to
health.

I smiled. My subconscious could be so snarky at times.

Regardless, I didn't want to be here.

"Feel free to use the library for your meeting," I said. "I'm still not feeling well, so
if you don't mind…"

Her eyes brightened.

"Oh, I'd be happy to email you the meeting notes!" She was positively beaming.
"You just run on home and take care of yourself."

Her excitement gave me pause. It wasn't as if Jessica was truly concerned with
my health. She was just eager to have Edward's attention all to herself.

Was I really willing to let Stanley have this moment?

Yes, I was.

"You're an idiot."

It wasn't the first time today I'd heard those words. Rosalie was the best friend a
girl could have, but she was fiercely honest.

"I know, Rose."

My cell phone was attached to my ear, my laptop was on my desk, and I was
sipping my third glass of wine.

It had been a rough day, which had turned into a rough night.

"I'm failing to understand why you're so embarrassed," she said. "The boy is in
love with you. Five years from now, when you're sleeping in his bed and rocking
his babies to sleep –"

I rolled my eyes. "Getting a little ahead of ourselves, don't you think?"

"– you're going to realize this is probably the most romantic moment of your life."

"You couldn't possibly understand, Rosalie."

"Maybe not," she admitted. "But I do know that you're going to really regret it if
you don't read those emails. How many did he send today?"

"Twenty," I mumbled just as my email dinged. I closed my eyes and sighed
heavily. "Twenty-one."

She laughed.

"I'm not saying that you have to reply to them. Not just yet, anyway. But you
should at least read them."

"He knew all along," I whispered sadly. "He knew all along and didn't say a thing.
How did he even make the connection?"

"I think if you'll look back at the very first email you sent him, you'll understand
how it was so easy for him to connect the dots," Rosalie said. "Bella, he wasn't
trying to be shady. You never gave the guy a chance. You assumed that he was
out of your league. You assumed that because he was good looking that he would
be far more interested in airheads like Jessica Stanley, when all along, he was
crazy about you. He saw an opportunity to get to know you – the real you – and
he took it."

"But that's just the thing," I explained. "I didn't tell him anything personal about
me. He didn't know where I lived or what I do for a living. I didn't show him the
real me at all."

"Hmm." Her voice was soft and very un-Rose like. "I think you're wrong. In those
emails, I think you showed him the very best part of you. That's the person he
fell in love with, Bella."

After we said goodnight, I decided to be brave. Not too brave, though. I wasn't
ready to open today's messages, but I decided to take Rosalie's advice and find
that very first email.

My eyes scanned the screen, trying to find anything that would explain this
madness. Any small, inconsequential piece of information that would have alerted
Edward to the fact that I was Bookworm07. At first, all I saw were various book
titles and ISBN numbers, but then – at the very bottom of the order form – I saw
my name.

My identity had never been a mystery. There had been no dots to connect. My
name was right there on the screen.

As if I didn't feel foolish enough.

My email dinged again, and I sighed tiredly.

Twenty-two.

The man had sent me twenty-two emails since lunch time.

I should probably read one.

Just one.

I guzzled the rest of my wine and clicked the first message.

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: I'm sorry

Bella,

It wasn't my intention to mislead you.

Yes, that's a song lyric from the 80s. I honestly have no idea what to say, so
when I'm completely speechless, I turn to music.

I have no idea what you're thinking. I have no idea how you feel about all of this.
The last thing I want is for you to feel embarrassed because you have nothing to
feel embarrassed about. Maybe I shouldn't have kept up the charade for as long
as I did, but it was the only way you'd really talk to me. We weren't good face-to-
face, but online…we were incredible.

Weren't we incredible?

"We were," I whispered.

One by one, I clicked the rest of the messages. They were all the same –
apologetic and pleading. Throughout the afternoon, the tone of his emails became
a little more desperate and sadder, and I felt a little guilty for making him suffer
all day without a response.

I opened the very last email, sent only moments ago. It was the one that finally
brought me to tears.

Bella,

Please talk to me.

You may think it's impossible, but I love you more than you can possibly imagine.

Please let me show you how much.

My fingers danced over the keys until I finally hit reply.

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Okay

Show me.

Chapter 11

"What exactly did you say?" Rosalie asked, her voice laced with shock at the
scene before us.

"I told him to show me how much he loved me."

"Well, he gets an A on that one," she smirked. "Maybe I'll tell him to show me a
million dollars. Think he can make that happen?"

As my eyes swept over my library, I had no doubt. Every inch of the room – the
shelves, the tables, even the floor – was covered with roses in every imaginable
color. There were yellow, red, pink, white, and even some funky hybrid colors
that just weren't natural.

"You can't even find the books," Rosalie laughed.

I shook my head in amazement. I had been expecting sappy emails and maybe
some romantic dinners. I wasn't expecting to have my library turned into a flower
shop.

Somehow, I found my computer amid the floral chaos, and I logged on. For the
first time in days, I was eager to send an email.

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Thank you

I am impressed.

His response was almost immediate, and I couldn't help but smile as I imagined
him waiting with this phone in his hand.

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: You're welcome

I'm glad I could impress you.

Have lunch with me?

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Lunch

Sounds good, although…if you have allergies, I suggest bringing your meds with
you. You'll need them. :)

The bell rang, and that was the end of the emails for a while. A few of the
teacher's assistants came in to help me rearrange the vases of flowers so that

students could actually get to the bookshelves. Throughout the morning, students
had their faces pressed against the glass surrounding the library, gawking at the
array of roses and giving me thumbs up. At one point, I even saw Jessica Stanley
gazing coldly at me through the window. I could only imagine the gossip. In this
case, I had a feeling the talk among the female faculty wasn't nearly as
supportive as what the students might be saying.

"It's so romantic," Carrie gushed excitedly when she stopped by between classes
to renew her book. "Isn't it romantic, Miss Swan?"

"It is romantic," I agreed.

"Is it true?" Her voice was full of wonder. "Are they all from Mr. Cullen?"

This wasn't an appropriate conversation to have a student, but Edward was
making it impossible to keep anything a secret. I quickly scanned her book and
offered her a smile.

"Yes, they are."

"Wow," she whispered dreamily as she looked around the library.

Wow, indeed.

The morning passed slowly, but as I impatiently watched the clock, I found my
stomach fluttering with butterflies. I had no idea how to act around him. In the
past, we'd bantered and argued over silly stuff, but now…everything was
different, and I wasn't really sure how to behave. So, I couldn't deny my relief
when he appeared at my door looking as nervous as I felt.

"Hi," Edward said quietly.

"Hi."

His eyes widened as he took in the roses.

"I hadn't seen them," he admitted with a shy grin.

"Yeah, it's a little overwhelming."

"But not too overwhelming?"

His voice was timid and hopeful.

"No, not too overwhelming," I assured him.

He smiled then, one of those heart-stopping smiles that sent the butterflies in my
stomach into overdrive.

"So umm….unless you'd like an audience, we should probably sit in my little
hiding place."

"An audience?"

I nodded toward the glass where several of our students were smiling brightly.
We both laughed, and I was thankful that something had finally broken the ice.

"The corner sounds great," Edward smiled.

We took our seats and unwrapped our sandwiches. We both had turkey on Swiss,
which made me laugh.

"Why is that funny?" Edward asked between bites.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "We just have more in common than I ever thought
possible."

"Well, that's because you didn't take the time to get to know me face-to-face. We
just argued all the time."

"I know," I agreed with a nod. "I'm really going to miss that."

Edward smirked. "I'm sure I'll do something to piss you off. It's bound to happen,
eventually."

We finished our lunch in a comfortable silence. More than once, I caught him
looking at me, and each and every time, I had to look away. It was all just too
much. The sweet flowers, the heated looks, the fluttering in my stomach…

"Hey," Edward whispered.

I looked up to find him gazing at me again. His eyes were piercing and intense
and I took a breath to steady myself. He reached for my hand, and I allowed him
to lace his fingers through mine.

"I'm sorry," I sighed softly. "I'm just still a little…"

"Overwhelmed?"

"Yeah."

"But not too overwhelmed to have dinner with me?"

I grinned and squeezed his hand.

"I'll even cook."

"You cook?" I asked.

"I cook."

"Hmm."

Edward took a deep breath.

"Look, I know all of this has been totally unconventional, but I'm still me."

"But I don't know this side of you at all."

"That's not true," he sighed. "I told you things in those emails that I've never told
anyone. You might not have known my name, or my eye color, or my location,
but you know me, Bella. You know me better than anyone. And I know you."

"You don't," I said as I shook my head. "Not really."

"I know that you love roses," Edward smiled at me. "I know that you love Forks,
and even though you like to travel, you'll always call Forks home. I know you're a
daddy's girl. I know your favorite pizza is sausage and pepperoni. I know you
have kickass music on your iPod. And now, after this lunch, I know you like
turkey sandwiches with Swiss cheese."

We had shared so much with each other through those emails. It was true that
we hadn't told each other anything that could identify us, but I'd told him things

that I could never share with anyone else. Had he really done that same? Had he
really valued our email friendship that much?

"I'll really miss the emails," I admitted softly.

"The emails don't have to stop," Edward reminded me as his finger traced over
mine.

"But they won't be the same."

"Maybe not," he shrugged. "Maybe they'll be better."

He smiled at me, and I found myself smiling in return despite my fears.

"There's something else that I know," he murmured.

"What's that?"

"I love you."

I gasped and bowed my head. I hadn't been expecting that at all. No wonder I
preferred email to this. This was scary.

I felt his fingertip along my chin, and he gently lifted my head.

"I love you, and I'm going to keep telling you until you believe me. I'm going to
show you, just like you asked me to do. The roses are just the beginning, Bella."

The bell rang, and I finally exhaled the breath I'd been holding.

"I'll email you my address," Edward said cheerfully as he grabbed the remainder
of his lunch and rose from the table. "Dinner at seven, okay?"

"Okay."

Leaning down, he softly kissed my cheek before running out of the library.

Chapter 12

"You should have been a chef," I said as we made our way into Edward's living
room. Assuming I loved Italian because of my name, he'd made homemade
lasagna, fresh garlic bread, and the best salad I'd ever eaten.

"Nah," Edward said as he offered me a seat. He handed me a glass of wine, and I
curled my legs beneath me as I made myself comfortable on the sofa. "You just
naturally get good at cooking when you live alone."

"I learned to cook when I was little. Mom wasn't very good at it. I had to either
learn how to cook or Dad and I would have starved."

Edward smiled thoughtfully. "Your relationship with your mom always sounded a
little strained."

"Strained isn't a strong enough word," I said. "Things are a little better now that
I'm an adult. She no longer gets to make promises that she doesn't keep. She
doesn't have the power to hurt me anymore."

I could tell that he was curious, but he didn't ask. I sipped my wine and decided
to change the subject.

"Your house is great."

"It's okay for now," Edward said as he looked around the room. "It's a little small,
which is fine, but eventually I'd like something bigger. You know…for…someday."

Edward gazed down into his wine glass, and I couldn't be certain, but I was
pretty sure he was blushing.

He was so cute when he was nervous.

"There is one room I'd like to show you," he grinned excitedly. He rose from the
couch and offered me his hand. His enthusiasm was infectious, and I smiled as I
took his hand. He led me down a hallway until we reached the last door on the
left. Pushing the door open, he stepped aside to let me look, and my eyes
widened.

"Wow."

"It's my favorite room in the house," Edward explained.

I could see why. In the corner was a small baby grand piano. There was a
loveseat in the center of the room and a recliner in the opposite corner. But it
was the walls that were the most impressive. The four walls were lined with
bookshelves from the floor to the ceiling.

"This shelf wasn't nearly this full before we started talking online," Edward
grinned at me, pointing to the shelf closest to us. It was filled with the books that
I'd recommended in my emails, as well as…

"You're reading Harry Potter!"

He cleared this throat nervously. "Well, I actually haven't started them yet."

They were all there – all seven books.

"You said you would never read them," I giggled, letting my fingers slide along
the spines.

"I know you love them," Edward said simply. "So I wanted to add them to my
collection."

Smiling, I pulled Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone off the shelf.

"Well, you have to start with the first one," I explained as I thumbed through the
pages. "You don't have to, but you miss so much of the backstory if you don't."

I felt his eyes on me as I reverently skimmed the pages.

"Read it with me?"

"Really?" I asked with surprise.

Edward nodded and led me over to the love seat in the middle of the room. He
pulled a thin blanket from the back of the chair, and without a moment of

hesitation, I found myself snuggled against him with the blanket wrapped around
us.

"Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they
were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd
expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't
hold with such nonsense."

I'd read a page, and he'd read a page. His voice was like honey as he read the
passages aloud, and I found myself snuggling closer. It was comfortable and
relaxing and so sweet. We took turns until we'd finished reading the first chapter.

Listening to Edward read from one of my favorite books – while wrapped in his
arms and snuggled beneath a blanket – was truly one of the most romantic
moments of my life.

He was just about to begin chapter two when I stilled his hand with my own. He
looked down at me and smiled softly.

"Why is this so easy?" I asked quietly.

Edward placed a bookmark against the page and slowly closed the book.

"It's always been easy, Bella."

He was right. Our emails had always been easy and honest. It was when we were
face-to-face that I'd been so determined to make it difficult.

"I'm sorry I made it hard," I said. His face broke out into a wide grin, and I
slapped him playfully on the arm. "You know what I mean."

He laughed loudly. "Bella, we work with teenagers. You can't say something like
that and expect me to keep a straight face."

I rolled my eyes and tried to pull out of his arms, but he just held me tighter. Our
bodies shifted, and suddenly, his face was very close to mine. His eyes flickered
to my mouth, and I stopped breathing.

"You know, I might have been a bit premature in telling you I love you," Edward
said softly. "I mean, we haven't even had our first kiss."

"That's true," I murmured. "Maybe you just think you love me. I could be a
terrible kisser."

"I could be a terrible kisser, too," he replied. "I think we should find out before
we move on to the next chapter."

I knew that he wasn't really talking about chapter two of the book. He was talking
about us.

The next chapter of us.

Before I allowed myself to completely panic, Edward lowered his head and gently
brushed his lips against mine. It was soft and sweet, but after a few moments, I
realized that I didn't want soft and sweet.

"You're holding back," I whispered against his mouth. "Why?"

"I'm just trying to take this slow," Edward said. "If I kiss you the way I really
want to kiss you, I'm afraid you'll disappear."

"Kiss me like you want to," I encouraged him.

With a groan, he pulled me tighter against his body and crashed his lips against
mine. I couldn't contain my whimper as I climbed into his lap and wrapped my
arms around his neck. His tongue slid against mine, and I melted against him as
we kissed hungrily. Edward's hands slid down my back until he was cupping my
bottom, and I moaned when he pulled me roughly against him, pressing his hips
against mine. My body arched, causing us both to groan into each other's
mouths.

My brain was screaming at me, telling me this was so far beyond what a first kiss
should really be. But my body – not to mention my heart – was ignoring my
conscience completely.

Luckily, it was Edward who came to his senses, and I whimpered when he pulled
his mouth away from mine and buried his face against my neck. We were both
panting and shaking as we held each other. Our bodies were still connected, and I
could feel how much he wanted me.

"Don't move," he begged.

I forced myself to remain still, which was nearly impossible when his lips began to
pepper kisses along the side of my neck.

"You have to stop kissing me," I whispered roughly as my fingers wove into his
hair.

"I can't," he murmured against my skin. "Do you know how long I've wanted to
kiss you?"

I groaned as his mouth made a trail down to my collarbone.

"Be still, baby," he begged again.

"I can't. Not when you keep doing…that."

"This?" He sucked on the skin just below my earlobe, and I arched against him,
making us both groan. Edward shifted us, and I found myself flat on my back as
he hovered above me. He kissed me softly before gazing down at me.

"So," he whispered with a smile, "ready for chapter two?"

Again, we weren't talking about the book, but I was ready, regardless.

"Do you promise there will be more kisses in chapter two?"

His smile was so handsome. He tenderly kissed me once more before running the
back of his hand against my cheek.

"As many kisses as you want," Edward promised me.

Chapter 13

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: Problem

It's very important that I kiss you right now.

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Funny

I seem to have that same problem myself.

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: Students

I could bring my band students to the library…make them write a report on
Reggae music or something.

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Reggae?

I think I have some Bob Marley on my iPod.

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: Of course you do

As if I wasn't already head-over-heels in love with you.

"You're so happy these days."

I looked up from the computer screen to see Carrie smiling down at me.

"How are you, Carrie?"

"Much better now that I've finished this horrible book," she muttered as she
slipped Carrie into the book return. "Never again."

"Well, I'm proud of you for stepping outside of your comfort zone and reading it,"
I replied as I scanned the book and placed it on the book truck.

"Only because I was forced," she sighed. She glanced around the room at the
vases of the flowers that were left. It had been a week since the first flowers had
arrived, and there were only a few arrangements remaining. "I guess sometimes
stepping out of your comfort zone has its advantages."

"Sometimes it does," I agreed with a happy sigh.

True to his word, Edward had spent the rest of the week showing me how much
he loved me. After the Harry Potter make-out session on his love seat, he was
the one who'd suggested that we slow things down. He wanted the chance to
prove to me how much he cared, and while jumping into bed sounded like a
fantastic idea to me, Edward really wanted to take things slowly.

It was endearing…and a little frustrating, to be honest.

We'd suffered through months of online foreplay, and after that first kiss, I was
ready to throw all of my inhibitions out the window. But Edward was determined,
so I tried to get a handle on my hormones. It was difficult, especially when we
had lunch together every day and dinner together each night. Sometimes he
cooked. Other nights, I cooked or we went out, but every night ended with a
chapter of Harry Potter and sweet kisses on a couch. At this rate, we'd finish the
first book soon.

Luckily, we still had six books to go.

The lunch bell rang, and just like always, the butterflies erupted in the pit of my
stomach. I grabbed my lunch and quickly headed toward our table. If the halls
weren't too crowded, it would take him exactly three minutes to walk from the
band room to the library. Once inside, it would take him seven seconds to walk
from the door to our secluded corner and kiss me senseless.

So imagine my surprise when he showed up at the two-minute mark.

"You're early," I said brightly.

His handsome smile curled my toes, and the intensity of his eyes made the
butterflies erupt violently. Without even saying hello, he took my hand and
pushed me against the wall.

"Couldn't wait," Edward murmured just before his mouth captured mine. I
couldn't stop the moan that escaped my throat as his body pressed against me
while we kissed.

Was it even healthy to want someone so much?

We were both panting when he finally pulled away, but he didn't let me go. We
just stood there, holding each other and trying to catch our breath, as we
attempted to get our bodies under control.

"You're killing me, you know."

He chuckled breathlessly and kissed the side of my neck.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

"You're right," he smiled sheepishly as he framed my face with his hands. "Hi."

No one had ever looked at me like they absolutely adored me, but that's how he
was looking at me right now.

Falling in love with him was so easy.

"Hi," I whispered.

"Hungry?"

"Starving."

I had the satisfaction of hearing his sharp intake of air and watching as his eyes
darkened.

"You're evil, Bella Swan."

"I didn't used to be," I muttered as I buried my face against his chest. "You're
driving me crazy."

Edward laughed and kissed the top of my hair before leading me over to our
table. We talked about our day, and he mentioned how he was going to have to
miss the Halloween committee meeting after school. He was taking his students
to a band competition at a nearby community college.

"I wish I had an excuse to miss it," I mumbled in between bites.

"At least it's the last one before the dance," Edward reminded me. "Have you
found your costume yet?"

I stopped chewing.

"My costume?"

"You're dressing up, aren't you?"

"I hadn't planned on it, no."

"Bella, it's a masquerade ball."

I was still shaking my head no.

"Come on," Edward murmured. "I'll be Harry Potter. You can be Hermione."

"You know, it's actually Ron she marries in the end."

He smiled brightly.

Crap.

"Fine, I'll be Ron," he conceded with a grin as he took my hand. "We'll get you a
Hogwarts tie and one of those short plaid skirts."

"Okay, we're still in the first book. You're not allowed to be having fantasies
about Hermione Granger. It's illegal."

"I promise my fantasies are not about Hermione Granger," Edward whispered as
he placed tiny kisses along my fingers. I trembled when he took a fingertip
between his teeth and bit it softly.

"Regardless," I whispered shakily. "I don't think that kind of costume would be
appropriate for a school dance."

It did give me a wardrobe idea for after the dance, though.

By the time the bell rang, Edward had somehow convinced me to look for a
masquerade gown and a mask.

"I love you," he said as he kissed me on the cheek. "See you tonight?"

"I'll be there," I sighed happily.

And I love you, too.

Chapter 14

"Have I told you how beautiful you are?"

I couldn't help but smile as I tried to keep my attention on the students on the
dance floor. It was difficult when Edward was standing behind me, his hand
gently stroking the exposed skin of my back.

"You just like the mask."

"The mask is very sexy," Edward admitted with a whisper.

"I think this strapless dress was a bad idea."

"I think it was the perfect idea," he murmured. I trembled as his hand made a
trail up my spine and beneath my hair. I couldn't stop my breathy moan when he
began to gently massage the back of my neck.

"Look, Rose," Emmett chuckled. "The chaperones need chaperones."

Edward quickly ripped his hand away, and I pretended to be very interested in
scrolling through the playlist on the iPod.

"Let's get something to drink," Emmett said, wrapping his arm around Edward's
shoulder and pulling him toward the refreshment table. "Maybe if we're lucky,
they spiked the punch."

"Men," Rosalie muttered under her breath before flashing a wide grin. "So, it
seems things are going well."

"Things are fantastic, yeah."

"How fantastic?"

"So fantastic that I have a plaid skirt and Hogwarts tie waiting for me at home."

Oops. I hadn't really meant to say that out loud.

"I don't even know what that means, but it sounds fun."

My eyes roamed the dance floor. Thankfully, the students were being on their
best behavior and weren't getting too affectionate.

"Stanley and Mallory are flirting with our men," Rosalie whispered to me. Sure
enough, Lauren was standing close to Emmett while Jessica's hands were
roaming across Edward's arm.

Yes, the kids were behaving themselves. Too bad the same couldn't be said for
the teachers.

"Hmm," I mused quietly. "What should we do?"

"Follow me," Rose grinned. I quickly set the iPod to shuffle and followed her to
the refreshment table.

"Excuse us, ladies," Rose smiled at each of them. "Our boyfriends owe us a
dance."

"Oh?" Lauren looked surprised as she looked between Em and Rose. "I wasn't
aware the two of you had made it official."

"Well, we have," Rosalie replied icily.

Emmett offered her his arm, and the two of them headed toward the dance floor.

"I think we'll join them," Edward smiled at me. "Shall we?"

Their mouths were gaping as I linked my arm through his and let him lead me
toward the dance floor. The students cheered as we found a spot among the
dancers and began to sway to a slow song.

"That was ridiculously satisfying," I grinned sheepishly at him.

"I have to agree," Edward smiled down at me. "Rose just called me your
boyfriend."

I giggled and stepped a little closer. We knew that we had to keep a respectable
distance, but I couldn't resist feeling his body against mine. His face was
obscured by his own mask, but I could still see his bright eyes, so green and full
of love each and every time he looked at me.

"Is that what you are?" I asked softly.

"Is that what you want me to be?"

"Yes," I answered without hesitation.

His smile was beautiful.

"Then that's what I'll be," he said softly. "For now."

"For now," I murmured in agreement, and my heart soared.

Edward held me a little tighter as the song changed. We both laughed,
recognizing the Elton John song from our early emails.

"And to think I was giving you relationship advice," I smirked.

"It was good advice," Edward laughed.

His eyes never left mine as he pulled me away from the dance floor and back
behind the partition. Finally away from prying eyes, he pulled me close. Lowering
his head, he kissed me softly.

"You have the sweetest eyes I've ever seen," Edward murmured against my lips,
repeating the lyrics from the song. The same lyrics I'd encouraged him to tell the
girl he loved.

Reaching up, I slowly removed his mask. I had something very important to say,
and I wanted to see the expression on his handsome face when I said it.

"I love you, Edward."

His eyes sparkled and his smile was breathtaking as he gently lifted my own
mask away from my face.

"I love you, too," Edward said softly. "Come home with me tonight."

"No," I said, and his face fell. Gently lifting his face toward mine, I placed a sweet
kiss against his lips. "I want you to come home with me."

I stared at myself in the bathroom's full-length mirror, trying to get the nerve to
walk into my bedroom. Edward was there, naked and sipping a glass of wine as
he waited impatiently for me.

That was my fault. He'd been impatient ever since I told him about the plaid skirt
and tie that was hanging in my closet. When I'd let it slip that knee socks were
also involved, he'd paid Emmett a hundred bucks to take over our chaperoning
duties just so he could take me home.

The skirt was ridiculously short and the cropped blouse was low-cut. The
Hogwarts tie swung loosely from my neck and my hair was an untamed mess.

"This was your idea," I reminded myself with a whisper. "Don't be a coward."

It was hard to be brave as I continued to stare at myself. When he saw me, it
was very possible that he would laugh so hard he'd fall off the bed.

"This is too much pressure for our first time. What the hell was I thinking?"

A soft knock on the door made me jump.

"Bella?"

"Y…yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied.

"Are you…are you dressed?"

I glanced at the mirror.

"Sort of," I mumbled.

"Bella?"

I sighed heavily.

"I love you, Bella."

"I love you, too."

"But if you don't get out here, I'm going to break down this door."

I couldn't help it. I laughed loudly, and that gave me the courage to open the
bathroom door.

I wasn't prepared for his reaction.

Silence.

Complete and utter silence.

I would have felt rejected and undesirable if it weren't for the fact that his eyes
were absolutely bugging out of his head.

"It's too short," I mumbled nervously, tugging on the unforgiving fabric. "My hair
is impossible and my boobs are like right there and…"

"You're perfect," he whispered roughly.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"I am?"

"You are."

He took his hand in mine and pulled me toward the bed.

"Next time you're wearing a Hogwarts robe," I said as he pushed me back against
the pillows. Not that a naked Edward was a disappointment. My nails trailed along
his biceps as I marveled at how handsome he really was.

"Next time, I promise."

His hands roamed across my knee-socks and up along my thigh as he explored
every inch of visible flesh. I was a trembling mess by the time his hands made
their way to my breasts, and when his fingers gently teased my nipples through
the fabric, I exhaled a desperate moan.

"I'm tormented," Edward said softly as his fingers continued their exploration.

"Why?"

"I want to see you naked," he explained, letting his hand slide down my stomach
and settling on the waistband of my skirt. "But I also love this outfit."

I groaned as his fingers slipped beneath the skirt, stroking my heated flesh.
Suddenly, his mouth was on mine, and he moaned hoarsely as I wrapped my
hand around him. His hips jerked as his fingers teased and caressed.

Kissing hungrily.

Moaning desperately.

Suddenly, he was hovering above me, lifting my leg to rest on his shoulder. His
eyes never left mine as pushed the skirt out of the way.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice thick with desire.

"I love you," I breathed, and my words turned into moans as he slowly entered
me. Lifting my leg a little higher, he began to move. Slow, gentle thrusts that
quickly turned into heated, frantic movements.

I needed him closer.

Wrapping my legs around his waist was all the motivation he needed, and he
pressed his chest against mine, capturing my mouth with his. My stomach
tightened as his thrusts became forceful.

"So close," I whispered breathlessly against his mouth.

When I fell over the edge, I clung desperately to him, whispering how much I
loved him. He buried his face against my neck as his body convulsed, leaving us
both breathless.

"Wow," he murmured with a lazy smile on his face.

I giggled softly as he fell back against the mattress, pulling me with him and
tucking me against his chest. We snuggled in silence, catching our breath while
we gently caressed each other's skin.

"Can I stay?" Edward whispered against my hair.

"I want you to," I said softly.

"Good."

I lifted my head off his chest and gazed into his sweet eyes.

"Why did we argue all the time?"

Edward smiled and twirled a strand of my hair around his finger.

"I don't know, really. I liked teasing you."

"You were flirting."

"Yes, I was."

"I didn't know that."

"Well, then, I obviously suck at flirting," he winked.

"Looking back on it, I don't think you do," I said thoughtfully. "I think maybe I
was just resisting. I didn't want to find you attractive because then I was setting
myself up for rejection."

His hand caressed my face.

"I wouldn't have rejected you."

"I know that now," I said, placing a kiss against his chest. "I just…I'm not Jessica
or Lauren. I've never been confident in myself when it comes to men."

"Jessica and Lauren are not good examples," Edward argued softly. "There's a
difference between being confident and being too aggressive."

"Some guys like aggressive women who fawn over their every word."

"I'm not one of those guys," Edward said softly. "I like a woman who is easy to
talk to and shares my taste in music. I like a woman who is content to stay home
and watch a movie or read a book with me." His finger traced my lip. "But most
of all, I love a pretty librarian who has an unhealthy obsession with Harry Potter."

I smiled as he kissed me gently.

"Just watch," I murmured against his lips. "I'm going to make you a Harry Potter
fanatic."

His eyes twinkled wickedly as his hand playfully cupped my bottom.

"If you keep wearing this skirt, I guarantee it'll happen," Edward grinned just
before his lips molded to mine.

Epilogue

Two Years Later

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Kicks

I'm pretty sure our daughter is going to be the first female punter for the Forks
High football team.

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: Hey Now

Don't be picking on my girl.

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Your girl

Your girl needs to quit kicking the shit out of my ribs.

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: Language

Mrs. Cullen, you never curse. I'm shocked!

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Sorry

I really love her. I just wish she'd come already.

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: Me too

I know, baby. So do I.

We'll have a lazy weekend at home. Will that make it better?

To: MusicMan26

From: Bookworm07

Subject: Maybe

Especially if a movie and popcorn are involved.

I love you.

To: Bookworm07

From: MusicMan26

Subject: You got it

Anything for my girls.

I love you, too.

Maternity leave was the pits, especially when the reason you're on leave has yet
to make her appearance.

Our daughter was officially a week overdue.

The doctor kept telling me to be patient. Her weight was normal and the
sonograms were perfect. She was just taking her time.

I took it as a personal insult.

Didn't she want to meet her mommy?

Edward was patient as ever and taking it all in stride. He was completely in love
with his daughter and had treated me like a goddess since the moment we found
out that we were expecting. Truthfully, he'd always treated me that way, but the
adoration had multiplied when he realized I was carrying his child.

Everything was ready. The nursery was finally complete now that the art class
had finished painting the Hogwarts mural on the baby's bedroom wall. That had
been Edward's idea since we were pretty that sure she'd been conceived during
one of the many nights I'd worn the Hermione costume to bed. Most guys liked
negligées, but not my husband. He wanted that plaid skirt and those knee-socks.

The blouse and tie were now optional.

Our professional lives were just as wonderful. My library had been expanded
thanks to a technology grant. We now had a multimedia center complete with
state-of-the-art computers and Promethean boards that allowed us to web
conference with schools around the nation. Edward had been offered several
prestigious jobs and had even been recruited by the University of Washington to
teach music on their Seattle campus.

He'd politely declined all offers. He was happy in Forks.

He was happy with me.

After we were married, we designed our dream house and, despite the rain, the
contractor had managed to complete it on schedule. It had everything we could
ever want, including a library which held Edward's favorite piano and the love
seat on which we'd finally read all of the books in the Harry Potter series. We'd
now moved on to Tolkien, and while his use of language drove me batty, I
endured it because that's what you do when you love someone. Also in the library
was a small shelf full of children's books, just ready and waiting for Molly's little
hands.

Yes, our daughter's name was Molly. Edward always did have a soft spot for Mrs.
Weasley.

Despite the happiness in my life, I was crabby.

And bored.

And big.

So big.

I placed my hand over my protruding belly and sighed.

"Where are my girls?" Edward yelled from the doorway, as if I wasn't planted in
the same place each day when he came from work. But he was so happy, and his
joy was contagious.

"Hi, baby," Edward smiled as he walked into the bedroom. He was holding a gift
bag with balloons attached. He climbed in next to me on the bed and kissed me
softly before placing the bag in my lap.

"A gift from Jessica Stanley," he smirked.

"You're kidding," I replied, wide-eyed. "I bet she just wanted an excuse to see
you."

"Nope," Edward replied as I reached down into the bag, throwing the brightly
colored gift tissue onto the bed. "She gave it to Rosalie who gave it to Emmett
who passed it on to me."

"I miss Rose and Em."

"They miss you, too. Rose said they'd come by Sunday for dinner if you were up
for it."

"That'd be nice," I nodded as I pulled the baby blanket from the bag. "Oh, this is
so soft!"

"I know. I peeked earlier," Edward grinned. "That was really nice of her."

"It was."

"So," he said softly, lifting my shirt and placing a sweet kiss along my gigantic
stomach. "How's my baby girl today?"

"Energetic," I mumbled tiredly. "I'm pretty sure she cracked a rib."

I ran my fingers through his hair as he told Molly all about his day at school. It
was our little daily ritual, and I loved it.

"And then Daddy caught Henry and Carrie making out in Mommy and Daddy's
corner in the library."

I gasped softly.

"Don't tell her that! Wait…my Carrie was making out with the quarterback of the
football team?"

"Yep."

"Good for her," I smiled.

"That's what I told them," Edward chuckled. "But I also told them to stay out of
our corner. That's our hiding spot."

"If I ever get back to work," I muttered, shifting on the bed and trying to get
comfortable. It was impossible.

"Are you too miserable to watch a movie with me?"

"Can we watch Goblet of Fire?" I asked sheepishly.

Edward sighed heavily but climbed off the bed and popped the DVD into the
player. Snuggling beneath the blanket, I laid my head against his shoulder. I'd
nearly dozed off, but then Dumbledore announced Cedric Diggory's name, and
my eyes flew open.

So pretty.

"I still say he looks like you," I said sleepily.

"He does not."

Nestled in Edward's arms, I was finally comfortable for the first time all day when
suddenly, I felt a slight tingling and a small amount of pressure in my lower back.

"What's wrong?" Edward asked, his voice laced with concern. He knew me so
well.

"I think I just need to pee," I explained, struggling to my feet and padding
toward the bathroom.

I felt it then, and I stopped in my tracks.

"Bella?"

I looked down, then back into the wide, fearful eyes of my loving husband, and I
smiled.

"My water just broke."

And from that moment on, our life was never the same.

It was unbelievably better.

~The End~