I think we’ve established Bella’s very responsible. The thing is, stuff like this happens. To responsible people. To smart people. And it happens all the time. Show me a person who’s never made a heat-of-the-moment mistake, and I’ll show you someone who’s either lying or hasn’t really lived. Having problems believing Bella could get caught up in the moment like this? She can’t believe it, either—and she’s embarrassed and pretty ashamed.

Her going to the drugstore herself was not stupid, nor was it out of character. She knows she fucked up, and she’s a huge believer that a person should clean up her own messes.

There’s also the issue of trust. Yes, Rose is functioning as Bella’s personal assistant, but Bella’s last assistant sold her out. It would be out of character for her She’s not going to trust Rose just because Edward said she should. Bella knows from Royal Bitch that despite the NDAs they signed, Palace staff leaks things to the media all the time. Notice Bella went straight to the pharmacist? Unlike cashiers, pharmacists are subject to the same confidentiality laws as doctors.

One last thing: Bella wasn’t on the pill because she wasn’t sexually active and hadn’t been for quite some time. That being said, she did have a prescription for it in case her situation changed because she is responsible. Everything I’ve written addresses sexual responsibility in one way or another.


From Art After 5:

We were now aligned such that if not for our clothing, his penis would have entered me. I put my hands against him and gently pushed him away.

My voice was soft, but firm. “Baby, if we’re going to do this, it needs to be without pajamas and with a condom.”


From Fall to Ruin One Day:

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Having these next to the bed felt presumptuous. I didn’t want you to think I invited you here for sex—especially after the way I behaved last night.”

“Did any of the arrangements you mentioned having with certain women involve unprotected sex?”

“No. What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Have you had unprotected sex since me?”


“But I’m guessing you’ve been tested recently.”

“Not exactly,” I say, staring down at the bedsheet.

“And you were ready to go without a condom?”


From The Patron Saint of Lost Causes:

For the first time in my life, I wish I were that guy—the kind who lets himself get carried away enough not to think of these things or even the kind who’ll go in bareback at first, then pull out and put on a condom. But I’ll never be that guy because I’ve always been that guy’s mistake.

I move off her and reach into my nightstand. Izzy looks confused until she sees the rubber in my hand.

“Oh. You don’t have to,” she says. “I’m on the pill and I trust you.”

“I’ve never done it without one.”

“I’ve never done it with one. Ed—uh—I was told it doesn’t feel good.”

“Trust me, Izzy. It’s going to feel good.”


From The Masen Sisters’ Guide to Losing a Player:

The only way I was okay with being number seven would be if I beat him at his own game. Specifically, if I threw his ass out before he even had a chance to take off his rubber.


Most recently, from The Heir and the Spare:

Was that him inside me just now? It couldn’t have been much—probably just the tip—but he still should put on a condom. I open my mouth to tell him, but he’s already shifted his hips and pulled out of me.

Guess it was just a slip. I am pretty wet down there.

He sits up so he’s kneeling between my thighs. He rests one of his hands on my stomach; the other he wraps the other around his penis. His gives it a quick tug then rubs it against me.

I close my eyes and slowly blow the air my lungs. How the hell does he do this? I’m close to coming already.

He’s inside me again. Like before, it’s just the tip and only for a second. I don’t say anything about it—I’m worked up enough that the last thing I want is for him to stop. He shifts his hips and pushes forward, entering me more deeply. Once again, he pulls out right away.

He leans forward and brushes his lips against mine.

Is it okay when I do this?”

I feel his penis rub against me where I’m most sensitive. “Oh yes.”

And this?” he asks, pressing himself inside me.

It’s too shallow to count. I raise my hips to bring him in a bit deeper.

Yes?” he asks.



It’s every bit as intentional as the ones that came before it. Trust me.

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