Something There

Chapter Fifty-Six

It reminds me of how he mentioned that he never usually brings girls into his own room, and it makes me feel special.

And then I remind myself that he loves me. He really does love me.

Bryce guides me across the room, closer to his bed, and he takes a moment to switch on one of the lamps, seeing as he didn't bother with the overhead light. He also pulls our phones out of his pockets, setting them down onto the bedside table.

When we're a few feet away from his bed, he bends down to kiss me.

He's much taller than me which makes it a little difficult, but there's still so much passion and fire in the kiss that it doesn't even matter.

I can feel Bryce beginning to unbutton his shirt as we kiss, but I reach to stop him.

He pulls away from the kiss, confused, but instead I begin to undo the buttons myself. This causes a small smirk to grow on his face, and he's quick to shrug the shirt off his shoulders once I finish the job.

God, his body is incredible.

I trace my fingertips along his muscles as I kiss him again, this time a little more gently.

I feel his hands reach around to my back, pushing my hair to the side before gripping the zipper of my dress in his fingers, slowly pulling it down.

Once the zipper is completely open, he reaches around to the front of the dress, using both hands to carefully pull the straps down.

Just as the fabric is about to fall down my body, I grip his wrists, stopping him from letting the dress drop.

He's going to see my scars, and he's going to freak out.

"Do you want me to stop?" Bryce breathes, and though he's trying hard to hide his disappointment, some of it still slips through.

"No, I want to keep going. But there's just something that I . . . Can you promise that you'll let me explain and that you won't freak out?" I ask him, and he nods at me.

"Of course, Blossom," he promises me before he pulls the straps of my dress off of my shoulders, causing the garment to fall to the ground.

I step to the side, out of the fabric pooled at my feet.

Bryce sucks in an incredibly sharp breath as his eyes roam my body.

His adoration never fades, but his eyes go wide with worry when he sees the small, thin, red scars along one side of my abdomen.

"You did this to yourself, didn't you?" he asks me, and I try to tilt my head away to hide my answer, but Bryce stops me by holding my chin in his hands.

All I can do is give him a small nod of my head, tears threatening to leave my eyes at all the memories of that awful time in my life.

I used to self harm, right after everything that had happened to me. My mom made me feel like it was my fault, and I thought that the only way I could release my self-hatred was through hurting myself.

"Never again. If you ever feel the need to do this to yourself, talk to me. I'll help you. I promise," Bryce says to me, and I press my lips together, nodding at him.

"Okay," I squeak, thankful that he didn't freak out on me.

Instead he presses the softest, most dreamy kiss to my lips, just for a moment, before pulling away to look me in the eyes.

It makes me feel a bit better about those scars, knowing that Bryce stills finds my body beautiful despite them.

His hands are on my waist now, holding me close until he raises one of his arms up to give me a look at it; his tattooed arm.