A Fresh Start

The Parties

Author's Note: I own nothing. I just like to play with the characters that were created by Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Also, thank you for those of who have commented and offered well-wishes in my difficult time. It means a lot to me. Writing these stories has been my strength (as silly as that sounds) and has grounded me.

Rated M for future lemons (they will come!)

Chapter 8: The Parties

I pulled into Edward's driveway. My cake sitting on the passenger seat and I was nervous. Was this a date? No, it's not a date. You're planning your best friend's bachelorette party with the best man. But he is cooking you dinner. It's probably pizza. He is a guy. Edward doesn't seem like a guy who would make or order pizza. He's too health conscious. You remember what he looked like with no shirt on. Holy six pack, Batman!

Okay, it's official. I've lost my damn mind. I'm carrying on ENTIRE conversations in my head. This really needs to stop.

Let him love you, Bella, and it will. DUH!

I buried my head in my hands, hitting it on the steering wheel. "I will behave myself. I will not act like a crazy lady," I mumbled. "Come on, Swan. You can do this."

I got out of my car and walked to the passenger seat. I picked up the cake and walked up the manicured steps of Edward's home. As I moved closer to the house, I heard the most beautiful piece of music being played on the piano. It was so good, it had to be a recording. The chords were lush and luxuriant. The melody was soft and sweet: a lullaby. I'd never heard it before. I should ask Edward what the name of the recording is. It's so good. I took a breath and rang the doorbell. The music stopped.

Was that Edward? Holy shit!

Edward opened up the door and he gave me a crooked smile. He was wearing a pair of dark, distressed jeans and a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. "Hey, beautiful," he said as he stepped to one side. I walked in and handed him the cake. He bounced on his toes, similar to how Alice does when she's excited. It was very cute and un-Edward-like. "Yay! Cake!"

"What are you, like ten?" I teased.

"Shut it. This was the best cake I've had, ever," Edward said as he rolled his eyes. "Come on. I've made us some chicken picata. I hope you like it."

"You know how to cook?" I squeaked.

"Yeah. I've lived on my own for three years. It's kind of a necessity. Did you expect pizza?" Edward chided.

"Well, kind of," I shrugged.

"I hate pizza. It's nasty," Edward said as he wrinkled his nose. "I'll eat it, but there are things that I enjoy more. Do you want anything to drink? I have some white wine that I used in the chicken if you want some."

"No, I'll stick with water," I said as I followed Edward into his kitchen. His beautiful kitchen. I want to cook in this kitchen.

Edward put the cake on the counter and he got my water for me. He sat down at the island and placed the water in front the empty chair. I hopped up and sipped my water. "How was your nap yesterday?"

"As soon as I got home, around two, I crashed and slept until like ten this morning," Edward laughed. "I felt like such a bum, but apparently I needed it. I woke up this morning refreshed and I actually went for a run today. My back and legs are barking, but it felt good."

"You run? God bless you, I couldn't do that," I sighed.

"Why not?" Edward asked he picked up his glass.