I twisted and looked at him from underneath the sheets.
Bryce quickly wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against him. “I didn’t want to deal with it so that’s why I never said anything about it. It’s why I’m going pro next year. My mom wants me to take care of the family. She says that we can’t trust my dad for money. It’s my turn to man up and take care of stuff.”
We still heard sounds from Denton’s party.
“I really hate that guy,” Bryce said quietly against my shoulder. “And I really don’t like his sister.”
“I’m sorry about your family,” I murmured softly and pressed a kiss underneath his jaw. He was so strong, in more than the obvious ways. I felt humbled, but I wasn’t about to admit that. “And you don’t have to worry about Mena anymore. Neither of those two are going to be visiting me anytime soon.”
Bryce sat up beside me and draped a loose arm over my waist. He told me, “She’s…she’s not right. She doesn’t have a base, I guess. I don’t know. I just know…she reminds me of my mom sometimes.”
That screamed of silence.
“It took my mom a long time before she could walk out of the house alone after my dad first left. Mena reminds me of my mom.”
“You never talk about your mom like that,” I murmured.
“I never talk about my mom,” Bryce said grimly. “Period.”
I grinned softly and reached for him. He came willingly and our lips met.
I gasped and shoved him away. “We didn’t use protection that last time.”
“I thought you were doing the shot.”
“Oh.” I ‘d forgotten and slumped back down, relieved. “Thank god.”
Bryce ducked his head and grinned against my neck. His hand explored downwards and my breath caught as he poked and whispered, “I liked feeling you naked.”
I laughed, “And that statement is the epitome of our dysfunctional and unhealthy relationship.”
Bryce grinned, but whispered fiercely as his fingers found my core, “Shut up.”
I did better. I shut him up instead.
And in the morning, my legs ached in ways that had me wondering how worse I would’ve felt if I’d run a marathon. It was still dark out, but the clock read 6:30 and I could still hear sounds from Denton’s party.
Bryce flipped onto his stomach and wrapped an arm around my waist. He scooped me closer in his sleep and nuzzled my neck.
It tickled and brought a smile to my face. I sighed softly and turned to watch him.
I saw the vulnerable little boy in his face as he slept. He was softer, without the knowledge that consciousness brought to him and hardened the wall that he resurrected.
I had a wall and my wall was thicker. But I’d told him twice more during the night that I loved him. Once as we made love and the second as he fell asleep. He hadn’t heard the second time, but it’s why I’d whispered it again. The words were foreign to my tongue and they slid off easier each time I said them.
I slipped from the bed and Bryce found me in the shower.
We didn’t leave the room until another hour, but it was a refreshing morning that I knew would be remembered no matter what the future brought.
I needed that morning.
We skipped breakfast and Bryce paid for coffee on the way to school.
As we parked and sipped, Bryce grimaced and brought his hand up from the driver’s door.
He smiled tightly and dangled two pairs of handcuffs from his fingers.
Steam rose from the cup in his other hand.
“Oh goody,” I said dryly as I sipped my coffee. Neither of us made a move for the doors. We were content to sit with comfortable silence and steaming coffee.
Someone pounded on the back of Bryce’s car and Bryce and I both turned to look.
Anyone else would’ve jumped, cursed, spilled coffee, but not us. Years of training for iron restraint kept us cool, calm, and with the bored expressions on our features.
Corrigan hurled into the backseat and threw an arm around each seat as he leaned forward.
“So,” he exclaimed, enthusiastic and beaming. “How are we?”
Bryce took a sip of coffee. So did I. And nothing was said.
Corrigan danced his eyes between us, watched, studied, and a slow smile spread over his face, “Oh man. Thank god!”
The barest hint of a smile ghosted over Bryce, but it was gone as I drawled, “Thank god for what? That we didn’t kill each other?”
“Nah, man.” Corrigan smirked, “Thank god that we remembered the handcuffs. I thought I might’ve lost our pair under my bed last night.”
“Logan doesn’t strike me as the handcuff type,” I remarked.
“Oh,” Corrigan was smug. “You haven’t met the real Logan, yet.”
“I’m okay with not knowing that Logan.”
Corrigan was about to retort as I saw a police cruiser turn into the parking lot. I bolted upright and asked, “What are the police doing here?”
“I thought they were still following you,” Corrigan replied.
“Yeah, but…those guys park across the street. These guys—look.” I pointed.
“They’re right here.”
Two police cars stopped just outside the parking lot doors of the school. Another two vehicles parked behind them and I watched as Officer Sheila climbed out of the driver’s seat of one of them. She looked wary, but refreshed with her hair up in a high ponytail and a crisp trench coat tied around her waist.
“What…?” I murmured to myself as I climbed outside.
I was across the parking lot before I knew it and asked Officer Sheila, “What’s going on?”
A frown flashed over her features and she held a hand up, “Sheldon, you should go back to your vehicle. Stay there.”
“No. What’s going on?”
Bryce and Corrigan had gotten out of the car and now approached us.
“Sheldon, go back to your vehicle. Make sure your friends are with you—they were with you last night, right?”
I frowned. “Bryce was. We left Corrigan at the vigil and went to my house.”
She relaxed, slightly, which said something. A person can’t normally read a cop.
I felt Bryce at my elbow and Corrigan rounded to stand beside me and Officer Patterson. Both guys were quiet when I asked again, “What’s going on?”
Bryce quickly wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against him. “I didn’t want to deal with it so that’s why I never said anything about it. It’s why I’m going pro next year. My mom wants me to take care of the family. She says that we can’t trust my dad for money. It’s my turn to man up and take care of stuff.”
We still heard sounds from Denton’s party.
“I really hate that guy,” Bryce said quietly against my shoulder. “And I really don’t like his sister.”
“I’m sorry about your family,” I murmured softly and pressed a kiss underneath his jaw. He was so strong, in more than the obvious ways. I felt humbled, but I wasn’t about to admit that. “And you don’t have to worry about Mena anymore. Neither of those two are going to be visiting me anytime soon.”
Bryce sat up beside me and draped a loose arm over my waist. He told me, “She’s…she’s not right. She doesn’t have a base, I guess. I don’t know. I just know…she reminds me of my mom sometimes.”
That screamed of silence.
“It took my mom a long time before she could walk out of the house alone after my dad first left. Mena reminds me of my mom.”
“You never talk about your mom like that,” I murmured.
“I never talk about my mom,” Bryce said grimly. “Period.”
I grinned softly and reached for him. He came willingly and our lips met.
I gasped and shoved him away. “We didn’t use protection that last time.”
“I thought you were doing the shot.”
“Oh.” I ‘d forgotten and slumped back down, relieved. “Thank god.”
Bryce ducked his head and grinned against my neck. His hand explored downwards and my breath caught as he poked and whispered, “I liked feeling you naked.”
I laughed, “And that statement is the epitome of our dysfunctional and unhealthy relationship.”
Bryce grinned, but whispered fiercely as his fingers found my core, “Shut up.”
I did better. I shut him up instead.
And in the morning, my legs ached in ways that had me wondering how worse I would’ve felt if I’d run a marathon. It was still dark out, but the clock read 6:30 and I could still hear sounds from Denton’s party.
Bryce flipped onto his stomach and wrapped an arm around my waist. He scooped me closer in his sleep and nuzzled my neck.
It tickled and brought a smile to my face. I sighed softly and turned to watch him.
I saw the vulnerable little boy in his face as he slept. He was softer, without the knowledge that consciousness brought to him and hardened the wall that he resurrected.
I had a wall and my wall was thicker. But I’d told him twice more during the night that I loved him. Once as we made love and the second as he fell asleep. He hadn’t heard the second time, but it’s why I’d whispered it again. The words were foreign to my tongue and they slid off easier each time I said them.
I slipped from the bed and Bryce found me in the shower.
We didn’t leave the room until another hour, but it was a refreshing morning that I knew would be remembered no matter what the future brought.
I needed that morning.
We skipped breakfast and Bryce paid for coffee on the way to school.
As we parked and sipped, Bryce grimaced and brought his hand up from the driver’s door.
He smiled tightly and dangled two pairs of handcuffs from his fingers.
Steam rose from the cup in his other hand.
“Oh goody,” I said dryly as I sipped my coffee. Neither of us made a move for the doors. We were content to sit with comfortable silence and steaming coffee.
Someone pounded on the back of Bryce’s car and Bryce and I both turned to look.
Anyone else would’ve jumped, cursed, spilled coffee, but not us. Years of training for iron restraint kept us cool, calm, and with the bored expressions on our features.
Corrigan hurled into the backseat and threw an arm around each seat as he leaned forward.
“So,” he exclaimed, enthusiastic and beaming. “How are we?”
Bryce took a sip of coffee. So did I. And nothing was said.
Corrigan danced his eyes between us, watched, studied, and a slow smile spread over his face, “Oh man. Thank god!”
The barest hint of a smile ghosted over Bryce, but it was gone as I drawled, “Thank god for what? That we didn’t kill each other?”
“Nah, man.” Corrigan smirked, “Thank god that we remembered the handcuffs. I thought I might’ve lost our pair under my bed last night.”
“Logan doesn’t strike me as the handcuff type,” I remarked.
“Oh,” Corrigan was smug. “You haven’t met the real Logan, yet.”
“I’m okay with not knowing that Logan.”
Corrigan was about to retort as I saw a police cruiser turn into the parking lot. I bolted upright and asked, “What are the police doing here?”
“I thought they were still following you,” Corrigan replied.
“Yeah, but…those guys park across the street. These guys—look.” I pointed.
“They’re right here.”
Two police cars stopped just outside the parking lot doors of the school. Another two vehicles parked behind them and I watched as Officer Sheila climbed out of the driver’s seat of one of them. She looked wary, but refreshed with her hair up in a high ponytail and a crisp trench coat tied around her waist.
“What…?” I murmured to myself as I climbed outside.
I was across the parking lot before I knew it and asked Officer Sheila, “What’s going on?”
A frown flashed over her features and she held a hand up, “Sheldon, you should go back to your vehicle. Stay there.”
“No. What’s going on?”
Bryce and Corrigan had gotten out of the car and now approached us.
“Sheldon, go back to your vehicle. Make sure your friends are with you—they were with you last night, right?”
I frowned. “Bryce was. We left Corrigan at the vigil and went to my house.”
She relaxed, slightly, which said something. A person can’t normally read a cop.
I felt Bryce at my elbow and Corrigan rounded to stand beside me and Officer Patterson. Both guys were quiet when I asked again, “What’s going on?”
