Thanks to ShearEnvy, bashfulfan and roglows. So much love.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

It's noon before I make it into the shower. It's one by the time I feel like I can stomach a sip of water.

When I finally walk into the kitchen, Emmett's doing his homework at the table. My mom isn't home yet.

I slide onto the bench seat across from him. He taps his pen on the page, staring at me.

"You look like shit."

"I feel like shit."

He shakes his head. "Edward had to work this morning at six. I was out with Rose so he looked for you all night."

I rub my eyes, feeling like an even bigger asshole than before. Edward would have gotten about two hours of sleep, if that.

"How was your date?" I ask.

As he tells me I start to realize why he's not completely losing it on me about last night. He can't stop smiling. I put my arms on the table and lay my head down, looking at him.

"You love her, don't you?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "Shut up."

It takes me a lot to smile when I feel this shitty, but I do.

He goes back to his homework, glancing up after a few minutes.

"Did dad talk to you?"

I nod.

"You okay?"

I nod again.

"You?" I ask.

He shrugs, drawing spirals on the lined page in his notebook. My mind wanders. I think about trying to eat something.

"So, you and Edward, huh?"

I sit up, focusing in on him. My eyes are wide.

"What?" I ask, dumbly.

"He told me. That he likes you. That he kissed you."

I ask "what" again and he looks at me, amused.

"Whatever. At least it's not Jasper," he says, going back to his homework.

After a minute I lay my head down on my arms again.

My hangover doesn't seem so bad now.

For the first time in a long time, I go to Edward's house. His mom hugs me and tells me he's in his room. The door is open a crack so I push it the rest of the way peeking around the corner. He's sprawled across his bed face down, headphones on and eyes closed. I take a second to look around. There are posters covering the walls; Nirvana, Soundgarden and NWA. There are bands I've never heard of and some that I wouldn't have expected to see. His room smells like dryer sheets and weed. It's clean but messy, stacks of CD's and books on his desk.

I kick his foot with mine, standing a few feet away from the bed. He opens his eyes and doesn't seem surprised to see me. Pulling off his headphones he rolls onto his back, yawning and stretching. His t-shirt rides up and he catches me looking. My cheeks feel hot but I don't feel shy.

He sits up on the edge of his bed, his eyes still half closed.

"I'm sorry about last night," I start.

He doesn't respond but he doesn't look mad.

Things started to come back to me as I sobered up. The kiss at the party was bad but the non-kiss in the car was worse.

"I was really drunk."

He looks at me like 'duh'. Despite that, I press on.

"Emmett told me you told him...about us."

Before he speaks he clears his throat. It's thick with sleep. "Yeah."

I watch him run his fingers through his hair. It's starting to get long, curling slightly around the nape of his neck. I want to kiss that spot.

"He was cool."

Taking a chance, I back up a step, reaching behind me to quietly shut his bedroom door. It clicks and I lean back against it, biting my lip. I smile and after a second he laughs once, looking away but smiling just the same.

Slowly, I walk forward to stand in front of him. He grabs my hips, his left thumb under my shirt. My breath stutters. "Can I kiss you?" I ask.

He smiles again and I dip my head down, my lips just touching his. I can feel my heartbeat everywhere. He pulls me onto his lap, my legs on either side of his. There's a distinct possibility that I might implode. I rock forward and his hands stop me.

"We can go slow," he mumbles.

"What if I don't want to go slow?"

He kisses my neck. I exhale slowly. "I promise to make it worth your while."

"How slow are we talking?" I ask, as his hands move up my back. "Because I pretty much came over here to get off." I'm only half kidding.

He backs up so he can see my face. I smile. "What?"

Shaking his head, he grins. "No, nothing. That's hot." I can tell he means it. I can feel it, actually.

We kiss and I let myself get lost in it. He's a good kisser. He goes slow and the way his hands move makes me crazy. I want them in places he gets just to the edge of, teasing me.

"What about your mom?" I ask.

He picks me up, sitting me on the bed so he can lock the door. I'm shaking just a little. If I wanted to stand up right now I'm not sure I could.

We lay down facing each other. He kisses me again, his hand coming down my thigh, behind my knee. He pulls it up over his hip and I want more friction but I let him lead. I start to undo my shirt and he stops me, taking over, large hands fumbling with the buttons. Once it's open he slides his hand over my waist. He just looks, his mouth slightly open. The clasp is in the front and I pop it open but let him pull the material away from my skin.

His thumb comes up to brush the underside of my breast and I exhale a puff of air, breath shallow. His thumb moves over my nipple and I moan.

He stills and looks up. A laugh bursts out of my mouth and he smiles.

I unbutton his shirt and sigh at the muscle in his chest, his abs taut. Running my fingers over it I get close to the waistband of his boxers and run my fingers under the plaid material. He holds his breath as I touch the head of his cock, my fingers running over smooth skin. He's radiating heat, his pulse pounding steadily. I think he tries to speak but no sound comes out.

I let him unzip my jeans, pulling them down enough to reveal my underwear. He moves his hand lower and this time when I moan he kisses me, quickly sliding his hands underneath the material and finding my clit. He moves two fingers in a circle and the angle is awkward but I'm so close already that it doesn't matter. I try to move my legs further apart but my jeans keep my knees together. I don't fight it. I keep quiet and that makes it feel better, keeping everything inside, everything focused on this one point while I shift, helping him. His kiss is urgent and when I let a moan slip he rubs a little faster, a little harder. "Oh, fuck," I whisper against his lips, my body stilling as I come, his fingertips slick on that perfect spot.

He stops just when I start to get sensitive, bringing his hands to my hips. We stare at each other for a long moment. He bites his lip.

"What about you?" I ask.

He smiles. "You came over here to get off. Not get me off."

My pulse picks up at the thought of making him feel what I just did, with my hands and my mouth.

Maybe someday with my whole body. The thought makes me even more ready for this.

I kick off my jeans.

"It's only fair," I reason. He doesn't protest this time, swallowing hard as I look down and reach out to undo his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. When I pull his cock out of his boxers I look up at him. It's bigger than I thought it would be. I wrap my hand around it and rub my thumb over the head, focusing on the underside. Rose told me it's the most sensitive spot on a man. I think she might have been right when he furrows his brow, his mouth open. I try to stroke up and down once but there's not enough lubrication so my hand catches. I push him back to lay flat on the bed.

"No, Bella. You don't have to-"

But I've got the head in my mouth and he exhales, swearing. He watches for a second and then drops his head back, throwing his arm over his face. He makes a noise that makes me take him further into my mouth. I find a rhythm after a minute and he seems to get harder.

"Fuck."

I keep going, trying to match the movement of my mouth with my hand, stroking up and down and licking back and forth across the sensitive spot. He makes a helpless sound, like he could cry.

"Fuck. I'm gonna come." He weakly tries to make me back away but can't. He's still got his arm over his face and he groans so I'm not surprised when it hits my tongue, coming in time with my motions. Because I don't know what to do after, I swallow, sitting up and taking a deep breath.

It's a minute before he moves, his stomach flexing as he catches his breath. I take a second to really look at his body. He's perfect. I can't wait to kiss every inch of him. My shirt is still off and I allow myself a moment to enjoy it. I feel comfortable and the way he's sprawled out makes me think he feels the same.

When he drops his arm he shakes his head at me, but there's a smile on his face. "I said take it slow."

I smile back. "I did take it slow. I waited years."

He looks down, pulling up his boxers but leaving his jeans undone. His eyes travel down my body.

"Come here," he says. I move over him, my legs on either side of his and my hands on his chest. It's a view I'd like to see every day for the rest of my life. He pulls me down to press his lips to mine. I like the way our bare chests feel pushed together.

"After that, this is going to sound…" he doesn't finish. We stare at each other, our faces close. This feels right. So right. "I love you."

The tear that comes to my eye is the good kind. I run a hand through his hair with an affection I can't believe I finally get to express.

'I love you, too."

I'm working on a WWH epilogue. It's slow going but I'm in it. Thank you for reading, my friends! Good to be back here.