Hey guys! How are you doing, how'd everyone's Thanksgiving go??? I really enjoyed writing this chapter and like the tension yet passion between Ryan and Braiden. It just makes me all warm and fuzzy yet angry. Like trying to make your OTP actually get together instead of imagining they will... and then when they do, being happy all the way until the end! Haha, too bad my books aren't like that. Sorry, I got a little carried away there😉 If you have any questions so far, don't hesitate to ask. Remember to vote and comment. Have a great week guys! I'll be posting sometime next weekend. Love you all!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Ryan Hunters POV ~ Age Seventeen
5:58 a.m. Thirty Two minutes before my alarm is supposed to go off and I'm lying here wide awake. I should be enjoying my precious sleep, but instead I'm sitting here confused as to why Braiden's arm is fitted snuggly around my waist.
His warm breath is softly fanning me as his face is buried into the crook of my neck. I don't remember him coming in last night, but the fact that he's here obviously must mean he's not mad at me.
I take the time to study his features, the way his eyelashes curl upwards perfectly, stretching to the tops of his eyes, his mouth is in a line as straight as a ruler, lips parted slightly, soft snores leaving his mouth, and the scar just above his eyebrow. I have yet to figure out what it's from, but I'm not sure I want to know. A compelling force makes me reach up and lightly trace it with my fingers, which move up to his chestnut brown hair, running through it softly.
"Ugh." A deep sound comes from the back of his throat and I quickly retract my hand like I touched fire.
"Sorry." I squeak, as my face flushes a bright fire truck red.
"Don't be, that actually felt really nice." He says, taking my hand and placing it back on his head.
With a small chuckle, I roll my eyes and start rubbing it again. He sighs deeply, almost like he's perfectly content and like nothing happened between us. A small twinge of anger burns through my veins when his harsh words re-enter my mind. I know I have to 'get my man' as Ellis said, but in order for me to do that, he has to apologize first.
Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I step down onto the cool floors and quickly limp down the hallway to the bathroom.
The mirror on the wall greets me first My hair is in a nest and there's purple bags under my eyes that show signs of the sleep that I so desperately need to catch up on. Simultaneously, my eyes drift down to the black fabric that hits my knees and it clicks that I put on Braiden's shirt last night to help me sleep.
"Oh my god." I groan, dragging my hands through my hair and down my face.
I look pathetic, like I can't even go without him for a night?
"Ugh." Another frustrated sigh leaves my throat as I turn on the shower.
The water gets to the perfect temperature, so I strip off the T-Shirt and slide under the warm water, letting it wash away the last signs of sleep. The steam almost works as a calming tool, and helps me prepare for school today. It's hard with my social anxiety to not think about the other people there and having to be around them all day. It's emotionally draining!
Stacy's blond head flashes through my mind and I immediately cringe. Her and Braiden made out Friday night which means she's going to be all over him. It's even worse that we're 'cousins' in their eyes, so I can't do anything about it. Why does everything always have to be so complicated?
I peek my head out at the clock which reads 6:20, time for me to start getting ready.
"Yay!" I pump my fist in the air and roll my eyes so far back I'm pretty sure I can see my brain.
"Stop talking to yourself!" I say out loud and realize that I literally talked to myself again.
Before things get to weird, I zip my mouth shut so I don't seem crazy. Once I have a towel wrapped around my body I realize that all my clothes are at Marsha's, so I have to walk to the evidence room to find something.
There's no way in you know what that I'm walking there in this tiny, white towel, so I temporarily slip Braiden's shirt back over my head the fasten the towel into a turban for my hair.
My hand finds the doorknob, and I swing open the door. I spin around to switch off the light then turn around only to ram right into Braiden's hard chest.
Geez, what is he made of, rocks?
"Um... sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going." I choke out, feeling extremely self-conscious in the fact that I'm wearing his T-Shirt even though it's practically a dress.
Crap, I'm wearing his T-Shirt. If he didn't notice before he does now.
"Oh, ah... I'll give this back." I say pointing to the t-shirt and he raises his eyebrows. "Not now!"
Internally, I'm screaming. Could I be anymore awkward?! If I wasn't me, I would slap me if that makes any sense.
"I knew what you meant," he chuckles, "I just wanted to watch you get flustered."
Immediately, red rushes to my cheeks and I squint my eyes at him. "Wow, you're hilarious."
Before he can make me even more humiliated than I already am, I rush down the hall to get some clothes.
Luckily, the door's unlocked, so I can slip inside quickly. There's multiple sections, weapons, tools, camera recordings, and of course clothes.
I head to the girls section and feel disappointed at my options, or lack there of. It's either super fancy, or really weird and clownish.
Why can't any criminals dress normal?
Sighing, I move over to the fancier section so I can keep me 'good girl' act, and pick the most toned down thing here. The first thing on a hanger is a bright blue, sequin dress which immediately gets shoved to the side along with around ten other articles of clothing.
My fingers brush against a soft fabric which draws my attention. I push the other clothes aside and look at the cream oversized sweater in front of me. The shoulders are cut out, but it's long-sleeve which should keep me mostly warm on the chilly day. I pull it off the hangar and slip it over my towel. It fits, but literally hugs my body everywhere, making curves appear in places I didn't know existed!
It comes down about four inches above my knee, so it isn't overly short, but definitely not the length I prefer. Well, at least I don't have to wear pants.
Shrugging, I meander over to the shoes and spot a pair of black over the knee boots. Thankfully, they just fit, and look surprisingly good with the outfit.
Once everything is on, I examine myself in the
mirror. My eyes widen in horror at my reflection, not because any scars are showing, because I look like I'm dressed in something Stacy would wear! It doesn't look bad just incredibly inappropriate for what I usually wear. Could this day get any worse?
I sigh so deeply that I probably sounded like the wolf that blew the three little pigs house down. With Braiden's shirt in hand, I go back to the bathroom, brush my teeth and apply mascara, then let my hair fall into its natural waves, avoiding my reflection the whole time.
My stomach grumbles, sounding like the mating call of a whale, telling me it's time for breakfast. The time reads 6:50, so I've got about a half and hour to eat before Braiden drives us to school.
I'm pretty sure my stomach is controlling me now, because I'm practically running to the cafeteria!
Jerry's shiny, bald head comes into view and I perk up when I smell omelets. He makes the best... well... everything!
"It looks so good!" I exclaim and he shifts his gaze to up to me.
"Well if it isn't my favorite kid! How're you doing, Ryan?" His smile stretches from ear to ear causing me to reciprocate it.
"I'm doing okay. I've got school today, so that stinks." I honestly reply, smile falling a tad.
"Ah, I forgot about that. You'll do great, I don't know why anyone wouldn't like you." He reaches across the counter and ruffles my hair like a dogs, sending it all different directions.
"Woah, watch the hair Jer." I wink at my rhyme and he rolls his eyes with a laugh.
"Here ya go, kid. Have a good day." He bellows sending me another toothy grin.
"You too!" I holler back, turning around and heading to a table.
I spot Braiden at a booth, and decide to sit over there, despite being angry with him. Anything's better than sitting alone.
His eyes raise to mine as I'm walking over to the table and they widen to the size of golf balls. He drops his fork on the table and starts coughing on his food.
Quickly, I rush over to him and start hitting his back in case he's choking. He takes a gulp of water and the hacking session finally subsides.
"Are you okay?" I ask, looking at him with concern.
He stutters when he speaks looking back at me. "Ah, um... y-yeah, that was not how I intended for things to go."
I shoot him a smile and sit down across from him, digging into my omelet while trying to ignore his stare which in burning into my head.
Have you ever tried to eat while being watched, because it's extremely awkward. Halfway through my food, I decide I'm no longer hungry and push it away.
"Hello?" I wave my hand in front of his face trying to break his stare.
His hand comes up and latches onto my wrist, gently tugging it down.
"Ah..." I glance down at where he's touching me.
"Ryan, what are you wearing?" He asks, while more like chokes.
"Um, clothes." I answer in a 'duh' tone.
He looks at me blankly as if needing a more specific answer.
"Fine, take a joke. I didn't have any clothes here, so I needed to get some from the evidence room. Trust me, this was the best option in there." I explain, nervously tangling my fingers together.
Judging by the way that he's not saying anything, I'm assuming I probably should have chosen one of the outfits from the weird side and not fancy side.
"Well, I'm gonna just go-"
"No, you don't have to leave, it looks really, really nice on you." He assures me, and I sit back down, pulling at the dress.
I can feel my face flush, and immediately know that I probably look like the red peppers in my omelet right now, and thinking about my red face only makes it worse. When I glance up I catch him staring at me, but he quickly looks away with light pink dusting his cheeks.
I decide to enjoy this rare moment. "Ooo, is Braiden Winters blushing?"
He keeps his head down trying to hide it from me, but the tips of his ears turn red, ruining his disguise.
"Shut up," he groans, "you turned way more red then me."
No witty insults come to mind, so I do the next best thing and stick my tongue out at him. Childish, yes, but hey what're ya gonna do?
"Wow, so mature." He taunts, placing his elbows on the table.
"Ha, you would have done the same thing." I joke, mimicking his actions.
Mischief glints in his eye and he leans in closer. "Oh really now?"
"Mhmm, I know so."
We both tilt across the table at the same time so close that our noses are almost touching.
"Then prove it." His voice cuts through the silence in a whisper, breath fanning my face.
At this moment I realize the joking nature of the situation is gone and it's turned completely serious. Not sure what to do now, I stare at him speechless using all of my willpower to keep my mouth from dropping open at the closeness of our vicinity. Luckily, the awkward silence doesn't last too long because he breaks it.
"Ryan," he pauses as if not sure what to say next, "will you... um... will you go-"
My heart is racing at a mile per minute as I wait in anticipation for his question, which he can't seem to spit out.
Just as the words are about to leave his lips the alarm on my phone goes off telling me it's 7:20 a.m. Time to drive to school.