Always There

Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen

Songs for this chapter:
• off the table - Ariana Grande ft. The Weeknd

Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen:

Bryce's POV

"Would you like a cookie?"

Blossom appears from around the corner with a pink Tupperware container in her outstretched hands. Inside, on a bed of wax paper, are four cookies.

"Where did you get them from?" I ask, cautiously leaning in to peer into the box.

"I made them!" Blossom replies enthusiastically. "They're cinnamon roll cookies. I wanted to make something special for my birthday. I bake cookies every day and bring them to the club for whoever wants them. I just need to drop Stephen's off to him and then we can leave. I'll be right back!"

As simply as that, she turns on her heel and hurries past me.

I can't help but to chuckle as I watch her go.

Mateo and Jordan and the rest of our group are long gone and left when the club closed. I told Blossom that I wanted to walk her home, and even though she was hesitant at first, she eventually accepted the offer. She asked her boss for permission for me to stay past closing to wait for her with big brown eyes and a pouted lip that no man could possibly say no to, and so here I am, waiting by the girls' dressing room for Blossom to be ready to head home.

Her and I sat and talked together all night. She only left my lap when she needed to get Richard and his friends drinks, but when they all got pulled into a private room with some dancers, Blossom and I had the table to ourselves with no interruptions.

When closing finally came, everyone else left, but I just couldn't stand to leave my girl.

Blossom reappears, skipping along happily towards me. When she stops in front of me there is one less cookie in the container and a giant smile on her face.

While she was in the dressing room, she pulled her hair up into a tight bun at the nape of her neck and removed her lipstick entirely even though it had already faded throughout the evening. She's wearing a pair of black sweatpants that are so huge on her that they undoubtedly used to be mine, and on top she's wearing a black sweater with the silhouette of my face on the front and my name up the right sleeve in white text replicating my handwriting.

She looks up at me sheepishly and pulls the hood up over her head. "When I confronted my parents about how they contacted you and told you to stay away from me, they felt really really guilty. They bought me a bunch of clothes from your website to try and make up for it. Now my entire wardrobe is either your old clothes or clothes with your name on them."

I laugh and reach for her hand. I loop my fingers through hers and squeeze. "I get sent all the prototypes for new clothing designs in my size," I tell her, noticing the way the sweatshirt nearly falls to her knees and assuming her parents bought it in my size so that it would fit her like an old sweatshirt of mine would. "I feel weird wearing things with my name on it. I'll give them all to you."

Blossom looks down at her Converse-clad feet and smiles shyly. "Okay. Thank you. I would love to have them."

I kiss her head. "Of course. Consider it a birthday gift. Now, let's get the birthday girl home so that she can enjoy her special day. Twenty-two. Wow."

Blossom squeezes my hand and gently begins to pull me towards the door. "Okay. I take the subway, but then I have to walk a little because there isn't a station super close to my new apartment. Is that okay with you?"

I squeeze her hand back. "Of course, sweet girl. Of course."

I reach for the black duffel bag she's been carrying on her shoulder since she emerged from the dressing room and sling it over my shoulder instead. She opens her mouth to protest, but then I stick my tongue out at her and she shuts right up.