Chapter Nine

~When Worlds Collide~

BPOV

…Bella…

…Open your eyes, Bella...

…It's just you and me...

…Nobody else matters right now...

…I dream about you, Bella...

…I dream about you just like you're dreaming about me right now…

…I want you to watch me...

…I want you to watch me while I make you quiver…

…I need to taste you...

…Will you let me taste you, Bella?

My eyes shoot open to savor the smooth as silk voice that's whispering above me, but I'm shrouded in the darkness of my bedroom.

And I'm alone, completely alone.

The white sheer curtains over the French pocket doors flutter in the night breeze to my left. It's not hot enough at nighttime to justify the air conditioner and I enjoy the idea that the world is right outside my door.

I can hear it, I can see it, I can smell it and I can feel it. It's a new moon tonight, so the sky offers no light. I hear the calming sounds of the waves crashing on the shoreline as I try and get a grip on reality.

Sitting up, I place my hand on my chest and feel my heart racing.

I'm a sweaty, sticky mess with my legs twisted in the bed sheets and my nightshirt bunched up around my waist.

Jeebus.

I can't believe I just had a dream about Mr. Hottie Not-So-Nice. And, hello? A sex dream at that! I can't remember ever having a dream that intense. And was he—? He was going down… there?

Holy crap. What I wouldn't do to make THAT a reality.

But of all the people I should be dreaming of? He's not supposed to be at the top of the list. James. James is the one I've kissed; the one whose hand has held mine.

Good God, Bella. You don't need to be lusting after the guy who despises you. That can only end in tragedy for you. Relax and let it go.

In with the good air…out with the bad. Cue James dream, please! God? Are you listening to me? If you're in charge of the dreaming thing, could you do a girl a favor?

I fluff my pillow, turn to my side and pull the duvet up to my chin.

James. I'm thinking about James.

My alarm clock reads 3:12 am and that's the last thing I remember seeing, until the morning light wakes me from my slumber.

~~~~~L~A~S~T~C~A~L~L~~~~~

I check my teeth for smudged lipstick or lurking strawberry seeds once more before putting my sunglasses back on and stepping out of my car. Glancing at my watch, I see it's 12:30 and I'm right on time for the food tasting for Aunt Didi's memorial service. I still feel a bit unsure about working for James at the bar, especially after having that run-in with Eric and now knowing how much he dislikes me.

And then that dream last night? Heaven help me; that was hot as hell. I'm not going to be able to concentrate on much today. And I need to get my head on straight, 'cause I'm training with James's brother at the pub tonight.

James gave me three separate pep talks this weekend, to reassure me that working at Last Call will be perfectly fine and there's no reason to walk away, when the scheduling is a non-issue. He said it's an easy fix, he asked me to trust him, so I do. What choice do I have? I can't continue only having four adult friends in my life.

I love Rosalie and Emmett, they are my lifeline. Without Jasper, I wouldn't BE alive. Even after he was no longer my doctor, Jasper kept me as a priority in his life and I can't imagine tackling some of the harder medical issues without him by my side. His wife, Alice, who has also become a dear friend to me, keeps me giggling even when I want to wallow in self-pity. Their five-year-old Tristan is the sweetest little guy and he captured my heart many years ago. Now, their six-month-old baby girl, my sweet goddaughter Emerson, keeps my spirits up when I don't think I have it in me to do anything but crash to the ground. I love each and every one of them. I would do anything for them, but I would love to know I'm brave enough to step out and gain a new friend or two.

James has been nothing but sincere and caring with me. I really believe he's a good man. I want to see if we can continue the budding friendship we've discovered and see where it leads. Baby steps, though. It's been hard this weekend trying to get Eric's frustrated face out of my mind.

Even though James has convinced me that I don't ever have to speak with him if I don't want to, I'm determined to attempt to make amends for whatever it is that I said or did in my past that caused Eric to feel such disdain for me.

I know I can do this. I simply have to.

Sex dream aside, if I want to keep pursuing Bella 2.0 as best I can, pulling up my big girl panties and having the tough conversation is exactly what needs to be done. And if the sex dream happens to become a reality someday, well, then that's just Jim Dandy fine by me!

I walk up the steps of the Victorian bed and breakfast, ensure that my bra straps are properly hidden by the cap sleeves of my sundress and ring the doorbell. I'm overwhelmed by the scent of lilacs wafting over toward where I stand. They line the base of the wrap-around porch in colorful shades of light and dark purple. I love the smell of lilacs. They remind me of my Grandma Swan. When I was a little girl, she always let me pick bunches of blooms off the lilac bushes that surrounded her property in Cherry Hill.

I can't hear anything coming from inside, so I ring the bell again. That's when I start to hear male voices coming from the other side of the door.

Maybe I'll finally get to meet James's older brother today. James said he would be here to introduce himself and then he'd have to take off to get to the bar.

My training tonight is supposed to start around 7, but not before James takes me to an early casual dinner at Bay Village Pizza. Apparently, it's a walk-up joint where we can order at the counter and then we'll eat on the beach because they have only limited outdoor seating. He swears by their enormous slices, so those are our plans prior to me having to be at work.

HA! 'At work'…that's a phrase I'm fairly certain I've never uttered in my entire life. Sometimes I wonder if I was a babysitter, a dog walker…something, ANYTHING while in junior high! But those are questions that go unanswered.

Aunt Didi told me that I never had a part-time job in high school that she knew of. Aside from that, she really didn't have that much more knowledge to offer me about my life as a young adult. She said we really only spent time together on major holidays.

This fact alone makes me really sad. She was such a sweet lady. She spent so much time with me, caring for me, loving me and nursing me back to health. To know that my parents and I didn't spend much time with her when we could have been and should have been, makes me feel so guilty. Clearly she was always a kind-hearted woman; giving freely of her time, energy, money and love whenever and wherever she could.

Yet, we only saw her a handful of times each year? What kind of people were we? Another missing puzzle piece of my life. If I try and make it fit with what Eric said about me, I wonder if my family and I WERE too self-absorbed to spend time with others…or even to care about others.

I grab at my stomach; I feel a knot forming.

You can't do this now, Bella. There's nothing you can do to fix it now. We've turned over a new leaf. Bella 2.0, remember? I keep chanting what Emmett drummed into me over the weekend.

I can do this. I. Can. Do. This.

The door swings open as I offer a smile to…Eric?

Shit. Why the heck is he here?

I hear him sort of whisper my name and that same sensational voice from my dream shoots an electric current directly to my core.

Unngh, that voice. I straighten my back and decide to be the bigger person. I've got to be at this point…clearly, he's been unimpressed with me in the past.

Step number nine, 'making amends'…off we go.

"Hi," I begin tentatively…good start, Bella. Highly impressive. He's about to be putty in your hands. I roll my eyes at my sarcastic inner monologue and press on.

"I didn't realize I'd see you here today, too." I continue smiling as if I'm auditioning for toothpaste commercials.

"Well, yeah. I work here. And apparently so do you!" Eric drops his hand from the door, turns and walks back into the foyer and further into the house, while James jumps forward with a huge grin and steps out to give me a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, there. Good to see you. Glad you could make it. You ready to dig in?" He's running his mouth a mile a minute.

Weird.

As he offers me his hand, he leads me into the foyer and closes the door behind me. I smile at his kindness. We start walking toward the dining room and I try to keep the conversation going.

"Oh, absolutely! You'll find I'll always jump at the chance to eat good food. Ring a dinner bell and I'm the first girl there!"

BWAHAHA!

I hear a loud guffaw and a crash from beyond the foyer. Unsure as to what just happened exactly, I keep a smile on my face and whisper to James, "I didn't realize I would see him again so soon. I hope he's okay with me being here."

I see James rolling his eyes at the ruckus as he's turning back to face me.

"Oh, psssh, Edward's fine. I think he just stubbed his toe before he answered the door. That would account for the constipated expression and his inability to carry on a conversation."

"Edward?" I question, confused. Oh good, maybe I'll FINALLY meet the brother.

"Yeah, I'm here. And I'm not constipated, but thanks, little brother. I hope you don't talk to all of our clients about our digestive and excretory functions."

I turn around to see Eric coming back in the dining room and I plaster a smile back on my face. Kill him with kindness, Bells. I hear Emmett in my head again.

James lets out what I think is a nervous laugh. "Are you alright, E? You stubbed your toe pretty hard. Can you handle being here?" James's eyes go wide as if he's witnessing a train wreck.

I'm watching some bizarre silent and not-so-silent communication pass between Eric and James. I know it must be about me and that's beyond mortifying.

I wonder if it's too late to call Subway and ask them to cater a major philanthropist's two-day memorial service.

"I'm fine. I'm good. I'm awesome. Never been better."

Okaaaay. Good to know. Seems like Eric is fine, good and awesome. That's a start, I suppose.

"SO!" James starts with a loud clap of his hands that makes me jump and Eric shake his head. "Introductions are in order! Bella King, this is my brother, co-owner and partner in the Four Seas and Last Call."

My mouth drops open like a wide-mouth bass and I'm suddenly too stupid to find words.

"Shocking, isn't it? There's a lot of that going around today." Eric punctuates his statement with another eye roll as he flops himself into the chair at the head of the table and graces the room with a sarcastic smile.

Wide-eyed, I turn to James, thinking this is some kind of joke.

"Your…brother? I thought you said your brother's name was Edward." I'm whispering, but not softly enough. Mr. Hottie Not-So-Nice is chuckling and shuffling some papers around on the table. He lifts his head with an annoyed look on his face.

"Yes. My name is Edward. Nice to meet you… again. Have a seat. We'll get that food right out to you, since you claim to want to eat so eagerly!" He gives me the a 'thumbs up', an overly cheesy grin and winks at me, but it looks more like he's trying to rid his left eye of a gnat that unwantedly flew in.

My eyes are darting all around the room. This man is NOT happy with my presence. I'm not a moron. Clearly, he's uncomfortable with me being here and I would suddenly do just about anything for a rogue wave to crash over LBI and wash us all out to sea.

James pipes up. "Bella, would you excuse us for a second? E, could you come here? I need you to double-check on a dish to make sure it looks right or determine if it needs a few more minutes in the oven."

My skin feels like it's on fire. This couldn't possibly be happening.

I thought Mr. Hottie Not-So-Nice was Eric, not Edward…and even worse, it's James's brother, MY BOSS!

How the hell can I work for them now? He hates me! This has disaster written all over it. I can't possibly go through with this.

Abort! Abort! Danger Will Robinson, danger!

Maybe, if I run like crazy, I can escape before they come back.

I'll go ahead and call Subway, order hundreds of hoagies, and hire Emmett to stand behind my kitchen counter to make drinks for everyone. He's not a bartender, but he's a fast learner. He could totally do it!

Rose probably wouldn't love having to serve mini-hoagies to hundreds of mourners, but hey, you sacrifice for your friends, right?

Then, of course, I would just have to stay holed up in my home for the rest of my life and never leave again.

As I'm looking at my strappy sandals wondering if they'll hold up during my mad dash, James and Eri—um, Edward come back to the table precariously balancing trays in both of their hands.

James is all smiles as he approaches. "Here we are! Chicken in wine sauce, bacon-wrapped scallops, prosciutto-wrapped cantaloupe, chicken apple salad bruschetta, spanakopita, and sausage-stuffed cherry peppers and that's just what I've got on my tray! Edward's spread is even more delectable!"

I look down, feeling myself blush a bit. My mouth is starting to water and I'm not sure whether it has to do with the delicious hors d'oeuvres or the fact that Edward is, in fact, more delectable than James.

I really should be hung, drawn and quartered.

What kind of person compares brothers? I mean, up until ten minutes ago, I had no idea they were brothers, but honest to God? Maybe Edward does know me better than I know myself. Maybe I am an awful person?

James and Edward place the platters down on the far end of the table, bringing over a few plates to start sampling and take a seat across from me. Huh. I guess they will be joining me in the tasting? It seems like it could be an unorthodox practice, but they're growing boys, they've gotta eat and now that I'm familiar with both of them, this seems like it's more of a friendly lunch than a business meeting.

Edward takes a swig of his Yuengling and James offers me a glass of ice water which I graciously accept. I decide to go for broke and initiate conversation with Not-So-Nice.

"So, Edward, James is boasting that you can offer me even more delicious treats. What mouth-watering things of yours can I taste?"

The next few seconds pass by me in a wet blur while beer is spewed from Edward's mouth all over me. He has the decency to look horrified, with James mirroring his expression, as I sit there with a stunned look on my face.

It takes a minute for it to register in my head what I said to cause such a visceral reaction on Edward's part. I suddenly feel my face heating up and quickly ask James where I can find the powder room.

"Of course. Here, it's just across the hall. I'm so sorry about that. I think Edward hit his head, I don't know what's gotten into him today," James attempts to explain.

"Wow. Stubbed his toe and hit his head, huh? He's batting a thousand today, isn't he?" I don't know where my bitchy response comes from and it sort of shocks James when I see the look on his face. Just as quickly as he tries to figure me out, he starts to laugh along with me and brush off my comment as if it wasn't intended to harm.

But it was…I want it to harm.

Edward needs some harm thrown his way. He's done nothing to make me feel welcome here today. I can't imagine that this is how they treat all of their clients. I know he wasn't fond of me years ago, but come on, give a girl a chance, wouldja? We're gonna have to find a civil place to function if I'm really going to try and work for them. Although, at this early stage of the game, it seems next to impossible.

Houston, we have a problem.

EPOV

Unfuckingbelievable.

See? This is why my mother told me not to run away from my problems all those years ago.

She knew about Isabella. Well, she knew I had unrequited feelings for a girl at work and she thought it was the wrong move to quit my job at the Flanders after I had such a successful run. She also knew my direct boss loved me and my other clients were always so appreciative both verbally and monetarily. Even though I had all those other things going for me, it was time to get the hell away from Isabella and her mind games.

So here I am now. I high-tailed it away from her all those years ago...and now she's standing in my dining room, having hired me to cater a party and, oh by the way, I just hired her as my newest waitress! I'll tell ya what, dude…karma, she is an unforgiving, sneaky ninja-bitch.

I can hear James attempting to make pleasant conversation with her out in the dining room and I hear her actually utter the words, "Ring a dinner bell and I'm the first girl there!"

"BWAHAHA!" I can't contain myself. I lose my footing and fall into a magazine rack after hearing quite possibly the most ridiculous thing to ever escape her mouth. Eat? Does she mean eat food? Is she for real? She barely touched the stuff all those years back when I watched her as I worked.

Maybe I would see her snack on a piece of fruit or a handful of mixed nuts from time to time. She was always terrified of gaining an ounce. I remember it being one of the things she bitched about most. It was beyond ludicrous. She had a fantastic figure and, even if she'd gained ten or even twenty pounds, she would've still been stunning. Curvaceous, like a woman should be. And now, she does look like she's gained a little bit of weight since I saw her all those years ago. And just as I predicted back then, she still looks fucking phenomenal.

God, I am so, so screwed.

And wait, what the hell is James talking about? I'm constipated? Oh, hell no. This ends right now.

As I turn the corner and walk into the dining room, I hear her whisper my name. Unngh, glorious. Just as I suspected it would be, goddammit. Suddenly my jeans are a little tighter than they were a minute ago.

I rejoin the conversation, but not before reprimanding James regarding his crass comment about my digestive tract.

Nice James, really nice. I can see that his normally very cool demeanor is rattled right now. He looks as if he's part nervous and part terrified. I roll my eyes and shake my head at him to try and calm him down.

Relax, I know how to behave.

"Are you alright, E? You stubbed your toe pretty hard. Can you handle being here?" Poor James is a drowning man. I sorta feel sorry for him. This girl who, let's face it, can turn any intelligent, clear-thinking male into a babbling imbecile, is starting to sink her claws into my little brother and he's desperate for me to not screw it up.

No worries, man, it's all good. If you wanna try and date this girl, it's your funeral.

Oh, and you might wanna clarify that whole "married" thing! I'll miss ya, kid. She's a man-eater. I hear Hall 'n' Oates croon in the recesses of my mind.

I throw him a bone. "I'm fine. I'm good. I'm awesome. Never been better." Okay, maybe that's a stretch. But I've gotta keep my wits about me. I risk a glance at Bella, whose blush has started on her chest and spread all the way up to the tips of her ears.

Mmmmm, her chest. I wish I knew where else she was blushing.

"SO! Introductions are in order! Bella King, this is my brother, co-owner and partner in the Four Seas and Last Call." James is trying to chisel at the iceberg that has suddenly floated its way down Long Beach Boulevard and parked itself in the dining room of our work-in-progress bed and breakfast. I shake my head at his attempt.

Poor, poor James. If it wasn't about to happen before, it looks like Isabella is about to burst into fucking flames now. I hear her whisper-shout to James, "Your brother? I thought you said your brother's name was Edward!"

Unbelievable, does she really have no damn clue? Or is she playing games like she always did?

I can't contain my snark. "Yes. My name is Edward. Nice to meet you… again. Have a seat. We'll get that food right out to you, since you claim to want to eat so eagerly!" I give her a wink and a smile but I'm sure it looks like I'm trying out to be a face contortionist for Cirque du Soleil.

Do they even have those? They totally should. I could make them a mint.

I need to rein it in.

Isabella looks like she wants to die and I can read James like a book. He's mentally scrambling to try and contain Wildfire Edward. At this rate, he may need to call in FEMA.

"Bella, would you excuse us for a second? E, could you come here? I need you to double-check on a dish to make sure it looks right or determine if it needs a few more minutes in the oven."

Here we go. Time to discipline big brother. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. I stand up and follow James into the kitchen, where I start pulling the food out of the oven and off the warming plates.

"DUDE! What the fuck? You have to chill out, you're acting insane out there!" James is practically spitting in my face trying to get his point across.

Point. Taken. He continues, "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume that the girl waiting in our dining room is your Isabella."

I shake my head and sigh in exasperation. "Yes, that's the Isabella I knew. I don't know her anymore. I really don't care to get to know her again. She's all yours."

Well played, Edward. I can hear that angel or devil on my shoulder trying to gnaw at me. If you truly believe any of that shit you just spouted, then I have a bridge in Brooklyn that's for sale, interested?

"Look, I don't know what to say. I'll back off. I won't have some girl come between us. It's never happened before and I refuse for it to start now. Tell me what to do. Please."

My brother looks so conflicted. I won't do that to him. I won't stand in the way of something that seems to be smooth sailing for him so far. I'm fucking engaged for Christ's sake! I can't be possessive of Bella!

A few interesting facts you might like to know, the Brooklyn Bridge is one of the oldest suspension bridges in the country. It was completed in 1883, and connects the New York City boroughs of Manhattan and Brooklyn by spanning the LOVELY East River.

"James, it's nothing. It was a long time ago. If you've had a few good times with her, then just go with it. Don't let my feelings from years ago interfere. I'm marrying Tori at the end of the year. I was just shaken up after seeing Bella. It was a shock to see her walk through the door of our bar. It's an even bigger shock to realize that I've hired her as our newest waitress and I'm going to be the one working with her a bulk of the time. But seriously, I'm good. I know I was an ass out there. I've got it under control. Seriously, no worries."

It spans almost 1600 feet and has a terrific view of the South Street Seaport. Just beyond that is Wall Street! In the other direction is Brooklyn, where all the 'it' kids are living these days. So whaddya say? You buying?

"Okay. Well, at the very least, we need to pull it together because if nothing else, she's a client and she's paying us to help her say goodbye to her aunt next weekend. We owe it to her to do the same stellar job we do for all of our other clients, right?" James, ever the voice of reason.

"No, you're totally right. Let's plate these samples and bring them out to her. She deserves our best. Thanks for kicking my ass."

James shakes his head. "What a day. We can talk about this more later. But yeah, let's square away this menu and take it from there."

I follow James back into the dining room as he starts rattling off the different hors d'oeuvres he's got on his tray. I hear him say something about my tray but I'm not paying much attention. I just need this meeting over with, so that I can get outta here and figure out what the hell my next move is.

What a fucking nightmare.

After placing my tray, I walk down to the other end of the table and take a seat.

Beer. I need beer. As I'm taking a long pull, I hear Bella start talking to me.

"So Edward, James is boasting that you can offer me even more delicious treats. What mouth-watering things of yours can I taste?"

I start to choke and then spray a mouthful of beer all over Bella. I try to catch my breath and I see James looking just as rocked as I feel.

Smooth move, genius.

"Whoa here she comes, watch out boy, she'll chew you up…"

Houston, we have a problem.

Chapter Eight

~Wait, What?~

EPOV

I push my way through the rest of the crowd and out the pub door into the humid night air. It's difficult to catch my breath because an anvil just landed on my chest.

Married.

She's fucking married? And she married that sniveling jackass, Alec?

If there was ever a place called Douchebag Island and I had supreme authority over who was banished there for eternity, the first one to get the mandatory invitation would be Alec King…followed closely of course by Karl Rove and most of the Bush Administration, but that's beside the point.

Fucking Alec King. There was never a more whiny, conceited brat in the world…well, next to Isabella, I suppose. I shake my head, disgusted. They deserve each other! A match made in douchebag heaven.

Pissed off after his run-in with Isabella

SONOFABITCH!

How could her father have possibly allowed that to happen? I told him, I fucking TOLD Mr. Swan what I walked in on that night…what Royce, Alec and his friends were saying and planning to do to Bella…and he still lets her marry that snake?

Bastards. Every single one of them.

I can't believe this shit. But you know what? I don't need to be concerning myself with this crap any more. This is old news, obviously. They didn't seem to care enough to stop a marriage, so there's no sense in dwelling on it.

But come on! I don't get it.

I guess I wasn't ever meant to get it. They were from a different walk of life and I couldn't relate to them. Their greed, their 'holier than thou' attitudes, their self-righteousness…it was all too much.

That's why I left Flanders after that summer. I couldn't be around them anymore. I couldn't be around HER anymore. I'd had enough by mid-summer that year that, when I announced that I wouldn't be back, my supervisor wasn't about to argue. He knew what a tough bunch the Swans and the Kings were to handle. He was upset to see me go, but he also knew I had bigger and better plans for my future.

I was already through my sophomore year at Wharton for business, while James had just enrolled at the Culinary Institute. We knew the dreams we were shooting for and it was important to buckle down and start making them happen. Even though I could've tried to suck it up and press through another summer or two at the Flanders before finishing with my MBA, I couldn't take another year of watching Isabella bitch, moan and boss me around which, while repulsive, still did nothing to quell the gravitational pull she had over me. It was fucking torture. It was like offering myself up to be fileted every year. My heart couldn't handle it anymore.

Knowing now that she eventually married that asshole, I know we were never in the same league; regardless of lifestyle frivolities or otherwise. I could never be with someone so uncaring; uncaring about others but more importantly, someone with so little regard for herself.

It's over now. Nothing to wallow in. She's married. And I'm getting married in seven months. I can't allow her to be a factor in my thoughts any more.

Game fucking over.

~~~~~L~A~S~T~C~A~L~L~~~~~

"What are you doing here?"

"I stayed the night to make sure your asshole boyfriend and his goons didn't come back for you. I was worried about you."

"Worried about me? Please. You don't give a shit about me so don't start acting like you do, all of a sudden. And I was having fun last night…I didn't need your fucking rescue."

"Oh what-thefuck-ever, princess. Even though you pitched a goddamn hissy-fit, if I hadn't dragged you up here, you would've been doing a whole lot more kicking and screaming, but with someone who didn't give a rat's ass about you, your safety or your feelings."

"What? And you're telling me that you care about me and my feelings? What a fucking joke. You barely even talk to me, Edward. I didn't need you last night and I don't need you now. BYE!"

BYE BYE. Don't wanna be a fool for you, just another player in your game for two. You may hate me but it ain't no lie baby, bye, bye, bye…

Ugh. I pull the pillow tighter over my head and refuse to allow the light to coax me out of my bed. This morning's come way too early…and what the fuck am I listening to?

…It might sound crazy but it ain't no lie, baby, bye, bye, bye.

I smack my hand down on the alarm clock. I'm all about listening to the mix radio stations from childhood, but that damn song was hitting a little too close to home, after having that damn nightmare of a flashback.

This weekend was absolutely nuts. Open to close shifts on both days, with just a few hours of break time in between. I'm wiped out. Hopefully that kid who I was talking to yesterday will come by today for a quick interview. I need another body behind the bar pronto. Aside from the relentless crowds, I felt like I was looking over my shoulder every minute waiting for Swan, scratch that, KING to pop out and mindfuck me again and again.

"GODDAMMIT!" I scream out to the universe and throw the pillow off my head. I need to get up and start the caffeine flowing.

No rest for the weary. My brother's probably just as dog-tired as I am and he had to go down to Last Call today to receive the delivery at the butt-crack of dawn. I hope those back to back weddings went well this weekend. I haven't heard from him at all…speaking of which, I need to find my phone. I tossed it in the car Friday night after escaping from the pub and I haven't seen it since. It's probably wedged under the seat or in the crack next to the center console. I look at the clock to see that it's almost ten.

Ugh, time to get up. The first step's always the hardest.

~~~~~L~A~S~T~C~A~L~L~~~~~

As I'm enjoying my third cup of coffee while trying not to ruminate on my dream about Swan, I stretch out on a lounge chair on the back deck to get some fresh air. A few minutes later, I hear my brother come trudging up the stairs and promptly crash into the lounger next to me.

"Damn, J. You look as good as I feel. Rough weekend?"

His muffled response from the cushion makes me laugh. He attempts to repeat himself, "I can't talk with you until I have some of what you're having. Is there any left?"

"Yep, just brewed a fresh pot. Help yourself."

James rolls himself off the lounge and stumbles his way into the kitchen and back out again with a steaming mug of coffee. Once the caffeine starts flowing in his veins he perks up enough to start a conversation.

"You about ready to get going to Four Seas?"

"Yeah…I have a college kid coming over for an interview. I hope he works out, I feel like death after this weekend. I won't be able to keep this shit up."

"You're telling ME? I killed myself this weekend at those two weddings. They went off without a hitch, by the way, and thanks for asking." He smirks in my direction and I respond with an eye roll.

"Chill out. I was getting there. So— how did the weddings go this weekend?" I cheese it up with an obnoxious, toothy smile which earns me a middle finger in response.

"We survived, but it wasn't easy. Set-up and breakdown is always a bitch. I was behind the bar for both events. The bar was closed during dinner for both parties, so I was able to take a break from serving drinks, but then I was carving the prime rib both nights as well. The girls and Justin worked their asses off even more than usual to make up for the loss of Erin. We owe them big time."

That's a Cullen cardinal rule that we were taught by our parents, who have always taken great care of their employees. James lives it well. He's extremely generous with our staff. At all times, we try our best to respect and value the people who work for us. It's an important value that has been engrained in our thinking since we were very young.

"Hey, I tried calling you a few times this weekend. Did you lose your phone again?" James questions after plunking down his mug. Time for a refill already…that's a Cullen trait through and through.

Must. Have. Massive. Amounts. Of. Caffeine.

"Ugh, I've got no idea. I ran out of the bar pretty quickly on Friday night and tossed my phone in the window. It must've rolled under the seat or something.

"Yeah, I wanted to grab you to introduce you to our new waitress but I got so busy. One minute, you're with Tori's dad; next thing I know, the lights in the office are off and the door's locked. What had you running out so fast?" James goes to pour his second cup.

"You mean aside from the fact that I knew I had to open and close for the next two days?" I shrug, not really wanting to get into it. If I give it oxygen, the fire will spread. "Man…I dunno. I just saw a girl I used to know. Bad memories, that's all."

"Well, who was it? Anyone I would know?" James settles back in his lounge.

"Nah. One of the girls from a cabana family from the Flanders days. Spoiled brat. Certainly nobody I cared to run into again, that's for sure."

"Wow. Everybody's having run-ins this weekend. Speaking of which, I need you to make sure that Eric isn't working when Bella is."

I continue without even listening to my brother. "I mean, she was such a silver spoon back then, and seriously never gave me the time of day. And now she shows up all of a sudden acting all friendly? I don't fucking get it. She acts like everything was fine between us years ago."

"Did you hear me, E? The new waitress has issues with Eric. We have to try and schedule them on opposite shifts whenever possible."

"Oh God, did Eric break another heart? I swear, he might be bad business for us. It's like watching you back in your Chatterbox days."

"Oh, whatever. He's not that bad. And I don't know what he said to her, but she was pretty shaken up Friday night. She wanted to meet you, but I couldn't find you and then, when I went to check on her, she was in tears and heading out the door." James shrugs.

"So wait, what happened? What did Eric say to her?"

"Hold up. We don't have time for this conversation right now. If we don't get moving, we'll miss our appointments. Let's talk at Four Seas." We drag ourselves out of the loungers, drop our mugs in the sink and I lock up the house.

Fifteen minutes later, we're both sitting at the kitchen table at the B&B while the food warms in the oven for our 12:30 tasting. I keep checking my watch, knowing that Dave kid should be here any second as well. He said he'd be by just after noon. Hopefully, they'll both get here soon, we can conduct business, and then I can put out some more feelers for the wait staff.

"Okay, so pick up where you left off at the house. You were saying that Eric got into it with a customer or somebody? I didn't hear exactly what you were saying earlier. What the hell happened?"

Eric can be a bit of an ass.

I squeeze my eyes shut willing the headache to stay at bay. GOD please, I really don't want to have to fire someone when the summer's just starting!

"Man, I've got no idea. Apparently last weekend, he was talking trash about her to her friend of all people! Anyway, her girlfriend told her; she got upset and wanted to quit before she even started. I felt badly for her, so I offered to work them on different schedules," James explains.

"Well, it doesn't make it easier for us, that's for sure. Now you've got me scheduling her opposite you AND opposite Eric. This isn't some crazy high maintenance chick you're getting us wrapped up in, is it? I'm not having a newbie employee order me around."

"Ugh, it's not like that at all. I'm a bartender, she's a waitress, Eric's a waiter…if you're gonna whine about it, let me do the fucking schedule, it's not rocket science, for cryin' out loud!"

"No, you're right. And hey, at this point, beggars can't be choosers. Whatever. It'll work. So, when am I gonna meet this girl, anyway?"

James looks at me like I'm losing my mind and starts speaking very slowly so as to ensure that his message is received clearly.

"Well, she'll be here for the food tasting in about twenty minutes. Have you not been listening to anything I've been saying? You're all over the map. You might wanna get your head in the game. Like I said, she wanted to meet you Friday night but you took off like a bat out of hell. So, what about you? What's got you so bugged about this girl you mentioned? You've got Tori. Old girls are just that, old news. But you and I both know they can start up new problems. Nobody should be rattling your cage at this stage of the game."

"I know. She was always this shallow bitch with a dipshit of a boyfriend….they were just a really awful bunch of people."

"Okay, so again, why is she even registering on your radar?" James questions.

"I don't know. I was happy to be rid of them once I finished there," I wince, knowing that's not the full truth, but I press on. "But she was always something to look at. I crushed on her almost the entire time I worked for her family at the Flanders. And she's still got her looks, so of course, I'm gonna look again…but NOW she's acting all innocent and nice! It's freaking me the fuck out!" My voice rises to a fever pitch.

Get a hold of yourself.

James's eyes widen. "Well, then let her be nice to you! But wait— what does it even matter? You said she was just a patron at the bar on Friday? You might not even see her again! Why worry?" James is trying to understand where I'm coming from. I get that I'm sounding like a fucking fool right now.

"Yeah, I thought that too, but I saw her two Fridays in a row, now! What if she lives here? I can't have someone playing mind games with me! Tori's already gone for fucking months at a time! Do you know how hard it is to just politely ignore the offers I get at the bar? You know how many hot girls walk through those doors! You get numbers slipped to you all the time too! Only you can act on them, I CAN'T! I need a sexual intervention, like, really fucking soon!"

My brother reasons, "Well, unless you plan on screwing around behind Tori's back, which isn't you, by the way, you better find some porn and get busy. Don't let some girl from the past mess with your future. You'll hate yourself for that." James gets up and opens the oven door to check on the chicken in wine sauce.

"I know. Forget it. Let me sit down and start figuring out this schedule. You said your girl is coming in to train with me tonight?" I reply, drained.

"Yeah, Bella said she's available any night this week for us."

"Okay." I shake my head in confusion not hearing James correctly. "Wait, what?"

"I said Bella's available," James repeats to me with his head in the oven.

"YOU said 'Bella'?"

"Yes, I said 'Bella.' I've been talking about Bella since I got here, E."

"Huh? Wait, so how do YOU know Bella's available?" I respond, confusion seeping out of every pore at this point.

"She told me."

"She told you she's AVAILABLE? She told me she's married."

"What? What are you talking about?" James rights himself and stirs the sauce on the stove top.

"You said Bella's available and I'm telling you she told me the other night that she's married!"

James questions me over his shoulder,"When did you talk to Bella?"

"On Friday night! At the bar!" Again…whenever it comes to this girl, I find myself starting to shout! I need to get a grip and dial it down a thousand.

"Oh, wait— so you met her already? She didn't tell me that on the phone when we spoke."

"Hang on, why would you be talking to Bella on the phone?" I ask as calmly as possible.

"So that we can say 'hi', 'how ya doing'? Why do YOU talk on the phone?" James is chuckling in confusion while looking at me like I have a third eye sprouting on my forehead.

"I don't talk to her on the phone." Bitter much? Perhaps.

"Okay, but why are you asking me why I'm talking on the phone to the girl I'm dating?"

"I'm not talking about the girl you're dating, I'm talking about Bella!" He's starting to piss me off.

"Well, I'm talking about Bella, too! What the fuck is this, Abbott and Costello?" James tosses the oven mitts on the table.

Deep breaths, Edward…aaaaand, go. "So let me get this straight. You're talking to Bella on the phone?"

"Yes."

"And you said you're dating her?"

"Yes, JESUS, I've told you this, Edward. I mean, I guess 'dating' is a strong word, but yeah, we've been out together and we've spoken on the phone several times. I'm going out again with her tonight. Why does any of this matter to you?"

"You're going out with Bella, Isabella Swan." I speak clearly so that there's no confusion.

"No. I'm going out with Bella, Bella King. I have no idea who Isabella Swan is."

"Christ! Isabella Swan is the girl from the Flanders!" I'm throwing my hands in the air and shouting like a damn cartoon character at this point.

"Okay, calm down. So you ran into Isabella Swan from the Flanders…the spoiled brat?"

"Yes. But you're calling her Bella and now I'm getting really fucking nervous because you called your girl Bella and my girl was always Isabella, but the other night she called herself Bella, too." Who's on first? What's on second?

James starts scrubbing his face roughly and starts up again. "Okay, so there can be more than one Bella on the planet, right?"

"Of course there can, but how many Bellas were at our pub on Friday night?" God, give me strength.

"So wait, you said you saw your Isabella, and she called herself Bella, at Last Call on Friday?"

"Yes. I saw her the first night of Memorial Day Weekend with her girlfriend and then I ran into her again this past Friday night. She didn't recognize me either night as me, Edward Cullen, but just as someone who might've been vaguely familiar. And though I know she's shallow enough to possibly not remember me at all, she was acting all nice! THAT's what has me so fucked up!"

Fever pitch, my friends. Fever. Pitch.

"Hang on. So your Bella was with a friend last weekend, too? Was this friend blonde by any chance?"

"Yeah. And she had a dude who looked like a bouncer hanging off her arm last week and again on Friday night." Hello headache, we meet again.

"So wait, did you see Eric talk to her?" James keeps digging, eyebrows furrowed. Sherlock is on the scene, now.

"No, but that doesn't mean that he didn't. What did he say to her anyway?"

"Her friend, Rose, said that he was a real dick and said she used to be a 'raging bitch'…or something along those lines. Whatever it was, it wasn't pretty."

"So Eric used to know her, too? And my Isabella was definitely a raging bitch. That I can attest to." Listen to me, 'my Isabella', HA! I've got some fuckin' nerve. But wait… I called her a raging bitch, too. What the what? I suppose if the shoe fits…

**DING-DONG**

I get up scratching my head. My thoughts are all jumbled, trying to figure out who James is dating and who he saw on Friday.

What are the chances that we are talking about the same girl?

The same 'twist me up in knots, ball-breaker, drop-dead gorgeous girl'? I shake it off. No way. No fucking way.

"So hold on, your Bella called herself Bella King?" James gets up and starts following me out of the kitchen.

"Well, at first she agreed to the 'Isabella Swan', but then she corrected me and said her name's Bella King."

"Edward." James grabs me on the shoulder to get my attention and we stall in the hallway. "You do realize that I'm going out with a girl named Bella King? What's your Isabella look like?"

"Pssshh. Let's get this straight, she was NEVER my Isabella. But she's petite, long brown hair, plump pink lips and legs that go on for days." I hope I'm not drooling as I stare off reminiscing; visions of teeny suede bathing suits dancing in my head. The doorbell rings a second time, waking me from my memories. James stops me again as I turn to walk toward the foyer.

"E, my Bella, the one I am talking to on the phone AND the one I've been out with, also has long brown hair, she's got a small frame like you said and has really long, trim legs. What the motherfuck? Are we talking about the same girl, here?" James rubs his forehead in borderline disbelief.

"Hang on…we'll work this out later. It can't be. I gotta talk to this kid about the bartending job."

I hear James still calling after me as I stretch my arm to open the front door. "Just be aware…this appointment for the Harrington Memorial is with—"

And at the same time I hear my brother call out her name, I see her with my own eyes standing on our porch in all of her mind-fucking glory.

You've GOT to be kidding me. This can't really be happening.

"—my Bella," James finishes. "Isabella," I sigh.

What did I say the other night? Oh, that's right.

Fuck.

My.

Life.

Game fucking ON!

Chapter Seven

 

~An Ugly Truth~

BPOV

Ooooph!

"Wow. Pardon me, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," I sputter to the brick wall I just slammed into on my way out of the ladies' room.

I look up and see Mr. Hottie Not-So-Nice from last Friday. He's staring down at me as if he's trying to make heads or tails out of what just happened. Apparently, he's never had someone bump into him in his world. It seems that his force field of hotness coupled with attitude has been permeated. Oh, well. Moving on...

As I step to my left he steps to his right, then we do the same thing on the other side. During the third round of back and forth dancing, he grabs both of my upper arms and stills me.

Awkwardness in the bar

"Sorry about that. I wasn't watching what I was doing either. Are you alright? We rammed into each other pretty hard." His eyes start to soften as he speaks.

"No. I mean, yes. I mean, I'm fine. Sorry. You just caught me off guard. I'm good. Are you good?" I answer him sounding like the complete and total spaz that I am.

"I've been better." He mumbles, but we're so close that I hear him quite clearly. And suddenly I don't think he means that he's physically in pain. Or maybe he is. This guy is just... odd.

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry again. I promise to keep my eyes open from now on whenever I exit the bathroom alcove." I'm floundering apologizing to this guy. I also realize this man is amazingly attractive, now that I am staring at him at close range. His emerald green eyes are locked on mine. Under his glare, I feel hypnotized. What more does he want from me? I said I was sorry. I even said I would make sure to always pay attention when leaving the scene of this apparently horrific crime. What's the protocol here? Do we need to exchange license numbers and insurance policies? What's the penalty for walking under the influence?

"Isabella."

"Yes?" Oooookay, how does this guy know my name? He knew my very specific non-alcoholic drink order last week and now he conjures up my name out of the blue? There's got to be more here that I'm just not following. "I'm sorry, how do you know my name?"

"You're Isabella Swan."

"No. Well, yes, I mean… I was at one time. But everyone calls me Bella. And it's King. My last name is King." I offer with a hint of a smile to see if I can coax Mr. Hottie Not-So-Nice out from behind his look of thinly veiled animosity.

"King." He repeats.

"Yes."

"Isabella King."

"Yes, Bella King." Hellooo? Is there an echo in here?

"As in Royce and Gianna?"

"Yes."

"And Alec King?" He sort of starts spitting out the names at the end. I find myself stepping back a bit and squinting my eyes to try and determine how this guy is pulling names out of thin air and pinning them to me. The thing is…he's right on the money. And it's freaking me the hell out, to be perfectly honest.

"Yes. Alec King. Royce and Gianna are his parents…errr, were his parents… hang on, can you tell me how you know my name and where you know me from? I'm trying to place your face, but I have some trouble remembering things." I figure this sounds much nicer and certainly less moronic than 'I suffer from retrograde amnesia and lost approximately six years of memories…by any chance do YOU know if I'm a virgin?'.

"Yeah. You mentioned that last week. Forget it. Sorry about the collision." And he brushes past me and walks away. WALKS. AWAY. Well, bolts is more like it; like he couldn't get away from me fast enough.

What the hell? And he STILL didn't answer my question.

I should maybe tell James about him. It's weird that this random guy seems to know me and the two times I've made attempts to pursue how he knows me, he blows me off and takes off like a shot.

Damn. Now I can't remember his name. I think he told us last week. Maybe Rose will remember. Or I can at least describe him to James and he should be able to tell me who it is.

Ugh. Isn't my life frustrating enough?

I have a mystery man; a hottie mystery man throwing out hints here and there that he clearly knows me from times past. I'm going to assume it's from before my accident, but I don't know that I'll ever be sure, unless I get him to talk to me in more than a three or four word sentence that he utters in judgments and riddles.

Rose and Emmett are deep in conversation at the table when I approach. "Hey, Rose. Do you remember the name of that waiter who served us last Friday? He was cute and automatically knew my drink order…any ideas?"

"Bella, that man is beyond cute. He is phenomenal. But…ummm, Eric? I think it was Eric. Does that sound right?"

"Eric. I don't know…I guess so. I thought it was an E-name. Anyway, I just ran into him again. I mean, I literally ran into him. We slammed into each other outside of the ladies' room. He kept calling me Isabella and was a little shocked when I corrected him and told him my married name."

"Huh. Well, he obviously knows you from your past, Bells. I didn't want to say anything to you last week because I thought it might just be a one-time encounter, but I think you need to know something."

"What, what is it?" A feeling of dread settles over me as I slowly lower myself into my chair.

"Well, last Friday night before Emmett arrived; when you went to the bathroom and the hottie brought our drinks, I pushed him a little bit to see how he knew you, knew your drink order… I actually asked if you guys dated."

"You WHAT? Oh, Rose…you're kidding me…ugh, how humiliating," I respond rolling my eyes and burying my face in my hands.

"Bells, relax. I didn't say it in front of you, because I knew it would embarrass you…but I couldn't help it! I got so excited that he seemed to know who you are! I had to take the chance, so I asked."

"Mmhmmmph." My face still buried, that's all the response I can muster at the moment.

"Well, anyway, he said that…ugh, I can't believe I'm going to say this, but if you're gonna work here, I think you need to be prepared."

I part my fingers around my eyes, clearing a space so I can see. This is gonna be bad. Here we go.

"Okay, so he said, quote, 'She was a raging, selfish bitch from the instant I met her until the blessed moment I didn't have to see her face anymore,'" she adds in a whisper, no longer able to look me in the eye.

My hands collapse from my face to my lap. I feel a cold sweat break out and my mouth drops open. I see the color drain from the faces of my two best friends, and I know it's just as bad as I must look.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't want to tell you…I didn't know how to tell you. Maybe you just had a run-in with him at some point before your accident and you guys just didn't get along back then. I really hated that he said those things about you last week, then when we pulled up here tonight, I started to get worried, knowing you might be working with him…I…I…I just didn't know what to do…or to say…I'm so sorry, Bells."

Rose is now in tears, with Emmett rubbing her back. My eyes are welling up; partially because of my hurt feelings and partially due to the sheer mortification of finding out that I could have ever been so awful.

What must I have done to this guy to warrant such things being said about me? And beyond that, to have my best friends witness such a scene? To tell Rose that I was a terrible person?

I just can't even grasp what's happening.

I feel my mouth start to water as the bile is rising in my throat and I make a mad dash back to the bathroom, lest I allow my Mack and Manco to make an unwelcome reappearance on our table.

I get to the stall just in time to empty my stomach. I have snot running down my face and tears pouring from my eyes. I'm flabbergasted. I'm humiliated. How could someone say those things about me? Who was I prior to the accident?



Last Call's Dining Room

Several minutes later, after splashing water on my face, rinsing my mouth out and blowing my nose, I make my way back to Em and Rose to announce my departure. I'm suddenly no longer interested in having a good time. When I approach their table, James is sitting with them, but he stands with a concerned face and walks over to where my chair is.

"Hey, listen. Rosalie and Emmett just explained to me what happened. I'm sorry about your run-in with Eric. I'll make sure that my brother knows to try and never schedule the two of you to work together, okay? I'm so sorry."

My eyes start watering again as I nod in thanks and grab my purse. My night is over.

"Bells, baby, please don't go. You can't go, I drove you here. If you want to go back to our house that's fine…but please don't shut us out, okay?" Emmett has a look of such sorrow and defeat on his face. I put that look on my best friend's face. My behavior, whatever it is I did, or whoever I was in the past, has my closest girlfriend in tears and my best friend looking like he's just been given a fatal medical prognosis.

"Bella. I hate to leave you so sad. I don't want to see you like this. Do you want me to talk to Eric tonight and have him back off?" James offers.

"NO! Please don't say anything to him. He was never mean to me. He never said or did anything to me that hurt me. It's what he said last week to Rose regarding me. I just…I just want to forget about it. I don't know if I can work here, James. My stomach is in knots. I haven't even started training yet."

"Bella, no please. I promise it'll be better. I'll call my brother first thing in the morning and tell him that you and Eric should never be scheduled to work the same shift unless absolutely necessary. Eric's a waiter and you'll be a waitress…it's a quick fix. It would be tougher if he was a bartender…but he's not! So there shouldn't be any issues with trying to schedule you both on opposite shifts. Seriously. We can make this work. I just don't want to see you sad. Please don't be sad."

"Okay, James. I'll think about it."

He sighs in frustration. "Alright. Lemme get back to the bar. I'll call you tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Yeah. We can talk more then. I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for? You've done nothing wrong! Please, don't be sorry. This can be worked out. I just want you to relax. Do you trust me?"

"Okay. Just…please can you apologize to your brother for me? What kind of employee makes demands about her schedule when she hasn't even started training yet?" Talk about warning flares going up.

"Stop. You aren't making the demands. I'm requesting my brother be aware of one specific employee's schedule. We own this place fifty/fifty. He happens to be the guy who does the scheduling, that's the only reason I need to talk to him about it. I'm the one making the executive decision here, okay?"

"Okay."

He whispers a final goodbye, leaning in and giving me a soft kiss and a hug. I pull away first, still embarrassed and not at all interested in being cuddly with anyone. So much for enjoying another fun kiss tonight.

"Sorry we're not hanging out, James. We'll definitely do it another night soon, man." Emmett stretches across the table to shake James's hand.

"Absolutely. It was good to meet you. See you guys later." He turns and gives me another squeeze and a smile and walks away.

"I'm sorry, guys. I just need to crawl into bed." I've lost my inner fight. Clearly, it's time to call it a day.

"Bells, please forgive me. I'm so sorry. I just didn't want that guy to lambast you one of these days. I guess I wanted you to be prepared so that you knew to steer clear of him if you'll be working here." Rose is a mess. I hate that she was the bearer of such an uncomfortable story, but her heart is in the right place. She didn't want me to be blindsided.

"Rose, it's okay. I know you weren't trying to hurt me." I can feel my lower lip starting to quiver again and my voice is getting warbley. "I just feel like I've been punched in the stomach. It makes me wonder what the hell else is in my past. I can't understand how I could've made such an impression on that guy. How did I behave? Was I awful to everyone? Or just him? It's bad enough if just one person thinks that way…what if there are others? How can I ever look people in the face again? What if I run into more people from my past that I don't remember, but they know me to be a sub-human?" I'm gonna be sick again…I can feel it brewing.

Emmett cuts my tirade off. "Bella, stop it. We don't know anything else about your past right now. We know that Didyme loved you. We know that your parents loved you. We know that Alec loved you…you two were married that night!"

"Yes. That I know. I know because my AUNT told me. Not because I feel it. Not because I remember it, because I don't. I don't remember anything. I remember nothing of who I was as Isabella Swan, Isabella King…whoever. I just want to know myself for once. For once, I don't want to have to make an educated guess or take a stab in the dark. If there was ONE thing I was sure of, I might feel better. All I remember is that my Dad loved me. And I only remember that based on my childhood memories. For all I know, I turned into an awful person before his eyes as well."

I turn to walk away but Emmett grabs my wrist, stopping me from leaving.

"Bella. Calm down. Let's all go together. We can talk more if you want, or we can let it go for the night, but I want you to listen to me and listen well. I don't care WHAT you did or WHO you were prior to your accident. Your life got flipped completely upside down on December 24th three plus years ago. It was tragic and awful and nobody in the world deserves that to happen to them. Since that time, I've never known you to be anything but sweet, kind-hearted and genuine. You would do anything for those closest to you and YES…I realize that's not a lot of people. But you are living with the hand that fate dealt you. You are not alone. And no matter what happened years ago, it doesn't define who you are now; the Bella we've known for the last three and a half years. Whatever that guy Eric said last week is irrelevant. Maybe he knew you in passing or maybe he knew you really well…and if he said you were a rotten person…well, he doesn't know the Bella that I know. If he cares to get to know you NOW, then that will show you the kind of character he is. For now…it doesn't matter. Let's get you home and talk about this when you're feeling better. Between the Flanders sighting and Rosalie's reveal, you've had a long night…and I know you're emotionally exhausted. Come on."

And with that, my hero rescues me again; grounding me as I begin to spin out of control. He's right. I can't fix what may have happened in the past with this guy, but I can try to change the future…I just have to find a way to apologize for doing more than bumping into him outside of the bathroom. I fear, however, that if I continue to dig any deeper, I may not like what I find.