Hi, lovely readers! Welcome to my new multi-chapter fic.

This originally started out as a collaboration one-shot between Twilly and me for a contest. Real life was kind of a bitch, and we weren't able to get it off the ground. So I decided I wanted to continue it as a semi-short multi-chap.

Twilly is also my AWESOME prereader! She helps me tremendously, always making things better, and I luff her! Big thanks to her for letting me continue this and post it here, and for generally being amazeballs!

Huge thanks also to Megschmegg (aka Iambeagle) for working her beta magic on this! She has offered a ton of invaluable feedback as well, and I big puffy heart her!

I'm planning eleven shortish (1,000 - 2,000 words) chapters, posting weekly, on Fridays.

All mistakes are mine as I tend to tinker right up until I post.

Please to be enjoying!

Disclaimer: SM owns the pie. I just make it lemony.

There are rules. Ignore them, and you're fucked. And not in the good way.

Chapter 1 - Hooker?

BPOV

Sitting in a booth in a trendy Seattle restaurant, Dr. Cullen's husband, Emmett, was cracking us up with his unique take on life as a stay-at-home dad—from shooting down philandering mommies in their playgroup to adding their three-year-old neighbor to his ever-growing list of boys who would never be allowed to date his daughters.

"Just the other day, Lily went…"

I didn't register anything else Emmett said after I glanced toward the door and saw him.

I noticed his distinctive swagger before I even looked at his face. It was less of a walk and more of a sex-prowl. How could he use that walk so casually, in the middle of a busy restaurant? And more importantly, what the fuck was he doing here?

Would he think this broke our agreement if he saw me on a date?

I looked down and away from him, trying to hide behind my hair. Maybe he wouldn't notice me. I peeked over again, and Rosalie and Emmett shared a confused look before peering over their shoulders. He was headed straight for us.

I silently chanted, Turn. Turn. Turn, in my head.

Rosalie looked back at me for a moment with an excited smile before turning back toward him, standing to offer a quick hug. His eyes widened as he caught sight of me just before her arms went around him. "Edward, I'm so glad you made it," she said. "I was getting a little worried."

Of fucking course. There're only about four million people in the Seattle metropolitan area, half of whom are men. Why wouldn't 'E', the barman I'd met a couple months ago, also be Dr. Cullen's brother, Edward, who owns a restaurant?

And my blind date.

I was pulled from my thoughts when Rosalie said my name. "Isabella, this is my brother, Edward Cullen, famous restaurateur—"

Edward cut her off, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's a bar, not a restaurant, Rose. And I'm not really famous."

"You serve food," she argued before turning back to me. "He's being modest. Seattle Magazine did a full-page article about his bar. They raved about the atmosphere, the staff, and the food."

Her eyes gleamed with pride as she turned back to Edward. "I'm proud of you, so you're just going to have to let me brag a little about my baby brother."

She looked back at me pointedly, saying, "My single baby brother," and winked. Their oddly similar wink was the only family resemblance I could see.

Rosalie absolutely beamed as she introduced me with a sweep of her hand. "Edward, this is Doctor Isabella Swan. She's a second year general surgery resident and my new mentee."

"It's very nice to meet you, Isabella," he said.

My eyes narrowed at his emphasis on the last part of my name. "You also, Edward."

He smirked at me before folding himself into the booth.

The two of us sat in awkward silence except when the waitress came for our order. Thankfully, Emmett was quick to fill the silence with more trials and tribulations of daily life with their three girls.

Sitting next to Edward was torture. My body knew his so well—his touch, his smell, his taste. And what it felt like when he tasted me. But my mind reeled. We didn't go out in public together. We had a system. It started with a text. It might be a direct I need a fuck, or a more explicit I want to hear your fingers sliding in and out of your pussy as you suck my dick, with a time and location.

We met. We got off. We went home. We weren't lovers. We weren't even friends. We were fuck-buddies. It worked. To keep it working, we had rules. A contract of sorts. And this clusterfuck was definitely in violation.

I needed to think, and I couldn't do it sitting next to him. His distinct smell—cologne mixed with sweet bourbon and smokey scotch from his bar—hung heavy in the air between us, invading my space. I could feel the heat from his body mere inches from mine. And I knew exactly what was hidden beneath his perfectly fitted slacks.

I shook the thoughts from my head and excused myself to use the restroom.

After wetting a paper towel, I pressed it to my forehead and the back of my neck. I felt better after a moment, and my previously flushed face was returning back to its original pallor. I opened the door to head back to the table, and there he was, his long frame leaning against the opposite wall with one ankle crossed over the other—the epitome of cool. The low light in the hallway glinted off the small ring at the end of his eyebrow.

That sexy as fuck eyebrow ring.

Dick.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I whisper-yelled through gritted teeth.

"You planned this, didn't you?" he replied with slightly narrowed eyes.

"Planned it? How the fuck could I have planned it? I didn't even know you had a sister!"

"Oh, come on. How many Edward Cullens do you think there are?"

My hands balled into fists. "I didn't know your last name! I didn't even know your first name. You introduced yourself as 'E'. That's all I've ever called you."

He smirked. "Do you normally sleep with people when you only know their first initial?"

"No!" I responded indignantly. "You know this is the first time I've had a… whatever this arrangement is called. What about you? Did it ever occur to you that Bella was short for Isabella?"

Edward shrugged. "I didn't really think about it, to be honest. Why doesn't she call you Bella, anyway?"

"She just calls me Swan or Dr. Swan at the hospital." A thought occurred to me, and I didn't like how it made me feel. "So, you're dating now? What happened to exclusivity?"

"I could ask you the same thing." His expression gave nothing away. For all you could tell by looking at him, we were discussing the weather.

I, on the other hand, could feel the color rising in my cheeks again. "I was just doing Rose a favor, and just because I go out with someone, that doesn't mean I'm going to sleep with them."

"Yeah, well, same here, sweetheart. On both counts," he sneered.

I scowled at him. "Asshole."

Edward ignored my jab. "So, you're a doctor, huh? How come you never told me?"

"I don't know. How come you never told me you owned that bar? I thought you were just the bartender."

"So you thought you were 'slumming' it with the help, huh?" he asked, using air quotes.

"That's not what I said."

"Ya know," he said, scrutinizing me with a raised brow, "I didn't take you for the doctor type. I normally don't do doctors."

"What's that supposed to mean? And what 'type' did you take me for?" I asked, mimicking his air quotes.

He shrugged.

"What did you think I was doing all those times I wasn't available because I was working in the ER overnight?"

"I don't know," he replied, shrugging again. "Hooker maybe?"

"You thought I was a hooker?" I looked at him doubtfully. "And you thought I'd give my services away to you for free?"

"Well… have you seen me?" he asked with that damn panty-wetting smirk of his.

He had a point, but still…

"Oh, my God. You're incorrigible."

"That's an awfully big word for a hooker."

"I'm not a hooker!" My hands were still balled into fists, and I stomped my foot like a toddler. My cheeks went up in flames as a woman emerged from the ladies' room and shot me a look before walking away.

Edward chuckled, the husky sound making me clench in arousal.

Fuck, I wished he didn't affect me so much. But then our little arrangement wouldn't be nearly as fulfilling as it was.

"Let's just… get back to the table," I said, flashing another angry look at him just for the hell of it.

"Go ahead. I'd hate for them to think we snuck off together," he said, looking bored. "Although my sister would probably love that. She can't wait to have little nieces and nephews."

The way his tone softened as he finished speaking caught me off guard. We never talked about our personal lives—our wants or ambitions. But it was the vulnerability in his voice that really threw me. He'd always been so sure of himself. Cocky even. Which was fine for our situation.

Edward had every reason to be cocky about his skills in the bedroom.

As I sat back down in our booth, Rosalie looked at me with concerned blue eyes. "Everything okay?"

"Oh." I waved my hand in what I hoped was a nonchalant way. "Yeah, fine. I just had something in my eye, and it took me a bit to get it out. Sorry."

Edward came waltzing back to the table and slid in beside me again, deliberately pressing the entire length of his thigh against mine.

Damn him.

Fuck-buddy Rule #5: No meeting each other's friends and family—no good can come from this.

Rule status: Bent

Thank you for reading! xoxo