Something There

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight:

Bryce and I spend the car ride blasting pop music and belting all the words, having to take breaks in between to laugh together.

I'm so happy that I don't feel the need to hide parts of my past from Bryce any longer, and I'm glad he's part of the small group of people who really knows what went down.

He refuses to let go of my hand even as we drive, and although I'm still convinced that this is going to result in a car crash, I don't fight it seeing as his touch is truly electrifying even when it's contact as simple as this.

When we pull up outside my house, I unbuckle my seatbelt, turning to Bryce to thank him.

He's already staring at me, his head tilted in the most adorable way to look at me.

"Call me whenever you need anything, all right?" he requests, and I nod to him.

"I'm really sorry about what happened. You didn't deserve any of that shit. No one does," he whispers, and I give him a helpless nod.

"Thank you," I reply, and he brushes my hair back behind my ears.

"It's not your fault though, so you shouldn't feel the need to apologize," I continue after a handful of seconds, and Bryce's smile suddenly shifts to something sad, his eyes eyebrows furrowing.

"But what if it was?" he begins to ask. "I mean, if I still lived here, we probably all would have been at my house rather than at Jasmine's, so you wouldn't have walked the same way to get home. Those assholes wouldn't have ran into you, and—"

As he continues to ramble, I reach forward to clamp a hand over his mouth.

I can't believe he's actually blaming himself for this; it's not my fault and it's certainly not his. Unfortunately, people like that exist in the world, and it's an issue that spreads far wider than just me.

"Bryce, don't think that way. I don't blame you at all so there's no point in blaming yourself."

Realizing that my hand is still covering his lips, I pull my hand away to let him respond to me.

He bites his lip, shooting me a sad smile, before saying, "I know. I just can't help it."

His voice sounds miserable and it's a painful sound to hear, and we seem to be getting along so much better now that things are more open between us, so I don't want to go our separate ways on a bad note.

So when I go to speak to him again, I dare to ask, "Do you want to come inside for a little bit?"

He at first looks a little surprised by my question, but after blinking a few times at me, he gives me small smile.

"Would you like me to come inside?" he counters in a teasing sort of way, and it makes me grin.

"Yeah. I would," I answer, and there's a clicking sound to show that Bryce unlocked the car.

I push my door open, grabbing my bag from where Bryce had placed it before stepping down out of the truck. I hear the sound of his footsteps behind me and his arm links through mine, guiding me up the steps and toward the entrance.

When we reach the door I rummage around in my bag for my key, and when I find it I insert it into the lock, twisting it until it unlocks before pushing the door open wide enough for Bryce and I to step inside.

"Your parents aren't home, are they?" he asks me, and I shake my head at him, shrugging my jacket off and hanging it up on a hook by the door. I slip my shoes off as well, lining them up orderly and giving myself a mental pat on the back when Bryce does the same.