Always Been You | Tom Holland

TEN

Y/N

"Look who returns! It's Miss UFC!" Ben shouts as everyone cheers. I do a spin, arms outstretched, and laugh. "How's the hand?" Ben lifts up my swollen hand and frowns. I hadn't realized just how swollen and bruised it already was. I guess Tom was right. I don't punch correctly. 

Your self-defense trainer should be fired.

And who should replace him? You?

I shake the memory out of my head. "I think the only way to get rid of the pain is to take a shot," I joke. I feel like the words I JUST KISSED TOM IN MY BATHROOM are written across my forehead in block letters.

"I'll second that!" Tom emerges behind me and makes his way over to the bar, where Jane is already pouring a shot for everyone. He glances at me only once for a moment, but it's enough to make me swallow a giant lump in my throat. It isn't long until a shot glass is placed n my hand. "To punching assholes and getting punched by assholes." Tom holds his shot glass out toward me and winks. We all hold our glasses up and throw our heads back. The burn of the liquor doesn't do much to settle the insanity going on in my brain.

"Now, I believe we were about to kick your ass in flip cup before we were so rudely interrupted." Ben nudges me and runs back over to the table. I grab a beer from the bar and watch as my friends and family fight over teams and how far to fill the cups, effectively forgetting all about the drama of the night. For now. I open and close my fist a few times. I'm going to have a reminder for days.

"So, are we gonna talk about it?" Tom whispers in my ear. His breath tickles my neck and makes me shiver.

"Talk about what?" I smile and walk back to my party, leaving him alone at the bar. I see him shake his head before I turn around and rejoin the game. I need to push that craziness out of my head. It was just that -- crazy. 

–

"Bye, guys, thanks so much for coming," I hug my friends as they walk toward their Ubers. "Please let me know when you're all home!" I shout. They all wave and blow kisses as their cars pull off, leaving me in my front yard alone. Ben and Jane have run off somewhere, probably to deny their feelings for each other even further. I rub my fingers over my swollen knuckles and groan. This is going to hurt way more tomorrow. "Fuck," I sigh and turn around, only to be met with Tom standing directly behind me. "Jesus, Tom," My hand clutches my chest.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He looks down at his shoes. The streetlight shines on his bruised jaw and it makes my stomach drop. Why did he have to step in front of me like that? Damn him.

"It's okay," I chuckle and walk toward the front door, Tom's footsteps close behind. I hate that I'm getting used to his footsteps following mine. "How's your jaw?" I walk into my parent's guest bedroom and sit on the bed, slipping off my shoes. 

He rubs his jaw thoughtfully. "I'm sure I'll be feeling it tomorrow," he laughs and leans on the doorframe. I can feel him watching me as I unzip my bags and sort through what I've packed. I can't quite place why I feel so uneasy. "So, about earlier," he steps inside and closes the door, once again leaning on it as he watches me nervously sort myself out.

I have to clear my throat before I speak. "Listen, we were – we ARE – drunk. You had just saved me from being punched. We were caught up in the moment." I shrug and dig through my overnight bag for my pajamas, wanting desperately for this moment to be over.

"Caught up in the moment," I hear him whisper. "Why have you been acting so weird around me today?" 

"What? I haven't been acting weird." I sit on the bed and cross my arms, wincing when the pressure from my arm sends a jolt of pain through my injured hand.