Always There

Chapter One Hundred and Two

Much to my delight, I come across a pair made of pretty lace that just so happens to be the exact same shade of blue as my shirt. This discovery probably shouldn't excite me nearly as much as it does, but after I step into the underwear and shimmy it up my hips, I do a little spin in front of the floor length mirror in front of me.

To my surprise, I feel very very pretty even in just an oversized T-shirt and despite my damp hair slicked back over my shoulders. My legs look smooth and shiny and my skin all over feels soft as silk after I exfoliated in the shower and used a delicious-smelling lotion that has a scent disturbingly similar to vanilla cake afterwards, and as I twirl around once more, I feel . . .

Beautiful, and somehow a little bit sexy.

I wink at my reflection in the mirror, and when she grins back at me, I dissolve into a fit of giggles. Maybe all it took was a long, hot shower, and now I'm as good as new.

I leave my closet and head directly for my bed. I curl up underneath my duvet and swipe the novel that I'm currently reading off my bedside table. Then, I switch on my lamp, snuggle back into my headboard, and open up the book.

I read for ages. I read until my vision goes blurry, until my eyes can barely stay open. When exhaustion finally overtakes me, I slip a bookmark between the pages before setting the book back in its place at my bedside, switching off my lamp, and letting my head rest on my pillow.

But then, the very second I close my eyes, there's someone knocking on my window.

My heart skips a beat and I shoot back up in bed.

There's only one person that would climb onto the roof and knock on my window in the middle of the night.

I slip out from underneath my duvet, and as soon as my bare feet hit the cool, wooden floor, I scurry towards my window.

I yank the curtains back, and as soon as I see the face peering up at me through the glass, I let out a squeal of delight.

I unlatch the window and then pull up the glass and the screen as quickly as possible. Once the window is open entirely, I step to the side to make room for Bryce to climb off the roof and into my bedroom.

He immediately pulls me into a hug, and I absolutely melt. His arms are so so strong and his heart is beating so so fast within his chest and I want to hold on to him forever. I never want to let him go. He's my home, my safe place, and I feel so incomplete without him by my side.

We haven't spoken since my birthday. Not even a single word exchanged over text. And so now that he's here, in my bedroom, in my arms, I'm so overwhelmed with complete and utter joy that I could almost sob.

"Merry Christmas, Blossom," he murmurs. His lips brush against my hair, a feather-light touch that's so tender it almost makes me whimper in relief.

"What time is it?" I ask quietly. My voice is muffled as my face is still pressed into the plush, white material of his sweatshirt, but I know that he can still hear me when he smoothes a hand down my back and grins against my hair.

"Midnight, on the dot. I've been waiting on that freezing roof for ten minutes so that I could knock at the perfect time. Do you like my hat?" Bryce responds excitedly.

I pull away from his embrace so that I can get a good look at him. I place my hands on his shoulders and his hands remain on my waist, but as soon as I get a good look at him, I collapse back into his arms in a fit of giggles.

Because Bryce Bradshaw is standing in my bedroom at midnight on Christmas Day, and he's wearing a Santa Claus hat.

"Oh my God! You're such an idiot sometimes," I mumble into his chest.