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CHAPTER FOUR

Bryce

I was glad Emily liked the house. Despite the gravity of the reason for her visit, I was excited to show her the place and everything I had done with it. I wanted to show her I was different than the reckless kid who befriended her.

I had excited Emily when we were little. Her parents were strict to a fault. They demanded perfection from their daughters. Perfect grades, a rigid curfew, and lots of extracurricular groups even in middle school because it was never too early to start preparing for college.

Being my friend was her way of rebelling. I was dangerous. I taught her how to skateboard and ride a bike and I showed her my favorite hidden corners around Newbury when she was supposed to be studying. We got along well, and I wouldn’t have traded that time with her for the world.

But I scared her as much as I excited her. Sometimes I would get a little too angry at the world and that scared her. Even though I never would have hurt her, and I would have done anything to protect her, she saw me as dangerous. Not safe.

I wanted that to change. As long as she was with me, I wanted her to feel safe.

I left her to get settled in the room and went into the kitchen to get something to eat as well as brew some tea. She had to be tired after her flight, not to mention finding out the news that her sister might be alive. She would need some food and drink.

I was just getting finished making grilled cheese and tomato soup when she came in. “Sorry,” she said. “I lied down on the bed for a few minutes.”

“No problem at all,” I said as I plated her sandwich. “I figured you would need to rest. Are you hungry?”

“Starving. I haven’t eaten anything all day.”

I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Not even breakfast?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t have time.”

I wanted to scold her for not taking care of herself, but I bit it back. She wasn’t mine, after all. Even if I wanted her to be. I set her food down on the table. “Eat up,” I said.

She smiled as she took a bite. “This is delicious,” she said. “I can’t believe you remembered my favorite food.”

I smiled. “Of course, I did. It was the only thing you ever wanted me to make you for lunch.”

We often traded lunch at school. Her parents only packed her really healthy salads that she hated. Meanwhile, it was my responsibility to make myself food, or I would starve. So, I ended up making junk food and comfort food for lunch. When we started eating together, we traded. She would get a small comfort food fix and I would get fresh vegetables, which were nonexistent in my house. After a few days, I started cooking her anything she wanted, and more often than not, she wanted grilled cheese and tomato soup.

I sat down across from her at the table with my own lunch. “So, what have you been up to these past several years?”

We traded stories about what we were doing. I currently worked as a part-time mechanic, and part-time bartender at the Celtic Knot, which was an Irish bar owned by Chase. She was working as a bike messenger in the city.

“It’s hard work, but I enjoy it,” she said with a smile. “It definitely beats being stuck in an office somewhere. Besides, my parents would be pissed I wasn’t doing white-collar work somewhere, so there’s that.”

I smiled. “I’m proud of you,” I said. “I’m glad you were able to find something that you enjoy doing.”

She smiled shyly in response. “I’m proud of you too,” she said, a small blush rising to her cheeks.

I felt warm inside when she said that and I could feel myself give a ridiculously sappy grin. I had always been a bit of an idiot around her and it looked like nothing had changed in the least.

She traced her finger around the plate to gather up the rest of the crumbs before licking them off her finger.

I caught myself staring and looked away.

“I think I’m ready to go to my parent’s house,” she said, biting her lip.

“Are you sure? We could do it tomorrow if you would prefer.”

“I’m sure. The sooner I find out what happened, the better.”

I nodded. “Okay. Let’s get going then.”


Tags: Scott Wylder Romance