Short answer: No. I did not know. I guess it makes sense because we were thirteen, and what thirteen-year-old has ran around making out with people before?

But it never really crossed my mind.

So I answer, "No. I wasn't. I guess you just seemed so confident."

He laughs at this, tucking my hair behind my ears.

"You thought I was getting it on since I was that young? Damn," he chuckles, his fingers grazing against my cheek.

"I waited until I was fifteen," he tells me, and I blink up at him.

"Fifteen? Really? You're still literally a child when you're fifteen," I comment incredulously, and he gives me a wide grin.

"Don't judge me," he teases, crinkling his nose, and I laugh along with him.

I always have more fun sitting on the couch and chatting with him then out in big groups of people, it seems. He's fun to talk to, and doesn't shut me up when I talk about things I'm passionate about.

"So to change the topic from fifteen-year-old Bryce, who was a huge manwhore, what kind of things do you like to do for fun seeing as you clearly hate parties?" Bryce asks me, his eyes genuine and not mocking whatsoever.

I have to think for a moment, before answering, "Theatre and singing, obviously. I read a lot too," I tell him, expecting him to find my interests lame and make fun of me for it, but he doesn't.

"I like to read too, you know. I'm such a damn nerd," he laughs, looking up at the ceiling.

This fact shouldn't come as a shocker seeing as Bryce is legitimately a genius, but now I'm suddenly interested in what type of books he likes to read.

"What's your favourite book?" I ask him, which is a difficult question for any book-lover to answer, but I'd like to see how he answers.

He furrows one eyebrow, thinking for a moment. "I'm not sure I have one," he replies, and I roll my eyes at him.

"Then what book are you reading right now?" I ask him, leaning back against the sofa cushions. He looks to me for a moment, contemplating his answer as he takes a strand of my hair between his fingers, twirling it around.

"I know you'll laugh at me but I'm re-reading Pride and Prejudice for the hundredth time," he tells me, smiling a little bit at that.

Though I'm obviously not going to laugh at him, I'm totally surprised that he's into classic romance novels written by authors born in the eighteenth century.

"I love that book," I tell him, because I'm sure I've read it nearly a hundred times as well. He bites his lip at this, tugging slightly at the bit of my hair he's holding.

"Of course you do. You remind me of Elizabeth at many points in time," he teases, which is funny because I was thinking something similar.

"Well, you're basically just a slightly nicer Mr. Darcy," I reply, and he grins at me.

"I'm probably just as bad as him, just in a different way," he says, and I giggle, just as he drops my hair and reaches for my hand instead.

"Bad as in 'losing your virginity at fifteen'?" I ask him and he laughs, releasing his grip and gently pinching the skin of my wrist instead.

"Better than not losing my virginity at all," he says back, and I jab him in the side which just makes him laugh harder, leaning against me so that his head is on my shoulder, his warm breath against my neck.

"I'm pretty sure that I just ruined whatever friendship I had with Mateo," I sigh, then feeling Bryce smile against my skin.

"He wants more than you want to give," Bryce tells me, playing with the hem of my sweater.

I guess he's right. It still doesn't lift the heaviness from my heart though.

"I know, but I just feel like I owe him something. He's been so nice to me since we met and—"

Bryce cuts me off. "No. Don't think that way. You don't owe him anything at all," he tells me, sitting up and reaching a hand up for my face.

He tilts my chin up towards him, so that our eyes meet. "Just because he was nice to you doesn't mean you need to be in a relationship with him. You shouldn't have to feel that way," he says, whispering now, and my heart lurches.

"I tried to play nice with the guy, I really did. I know you like him and he means something to you, so I wanted to keep things cool. But he won't give me a break, for Christ's sake. It's like he thinks I'm going to eat your soul or some dumb shit like that," he huffs, going into more detail, and I instantly burst out giggling at that last sentence.

He taps me on the tip of my nose, enjoying my reaction, and when I quiet down I put in my word on the matter.

"I don't want to be rude or anything, but he's being really unreasonable whenever I ask him to calm down about the issues between you two," I say, and he nods at me before doing something that causes my breath to hitch.

He shifts so that his back is to my side, and then he leans back so that he's laying down with his head resting in my lap.

My heart is beating faster and faster but the second, and when he looks up at my confused expression he laughs hard.

"I'm exhausted. Give me a break," he requests, and I flick him in the arm, allowing him to stay where he is.

"Of course you're tired," I start. "I woke you up super late last night and you were up early this morning too."

Bryce raises an eyebrow at me. "I've already told you that you didn't wake me up. I don't sleep much and stay up that late nearly every night," he explains, and I widen my eyes at him.

"No wonder you're always clinging on to a cup of coffee like it's your first-born child," I comment, and Bryce scoffs at me.

"Mmm," is his only response, and just like that he shuts his eyes and falls asleep in my lap.

It must be nice to be able to fall asleep this quickly. I lay there every night, some nights even for hours, contemplating everything; every last decision, every moment of my future, et cetera.

My mind refuses to shut off. Last night was weird, and I don't think I've ever managed to fall asleep so quickly. I just must have been so drained, emotionally and physically, that the moment my eyes shut for longer than a second, my brain shut down too.

Meanwhile, lucky Bryce over here can just pass out for his mid-afternoon whenever he pleases, it appears.

Some of his hair has fallen onto his forehead, and I move to run my fingers through the soft, dark curls. His hair is super silky, and longer right now then I ever recall it being. He used to always keep his hair to a short crop, but the slightly longer waves suit him far more.

My finger traces down the the contour of his jaw, along the sharp line and down to his chin, when to my horror his eyelids slowly flutter open, his eyes shining brightly.

"Blossom, I'm still awake, you know," he says softly, and I jerk my hand away from him.

I guess it was wrong of me to assume he could fall asleep to easily. He smiles at me, but then takes my hand back in his, his longs fingers curling around mine and holding tight.

"Sorry," I squeak, then covering my mouth with my free hand when remembering how he's told me to cut back on the apologizing.

Luckily, Bryce decides to let is slide.

"You know, this has been the most low-key weekend I've had all year," I say, hoping to switch the topic. "We've been sitting here talking for the majority of the time, but I can't say that I mind it," I smile, and he mirrors the expression.

"This would all be way better if your weird ass friends aren't about to pop into the doorway any moment," Bryce says.

"I thought you liked Jazzy and my brother?" I ask him, and he shrugs.

"Charlie has changed a lot. I mean, obviously we all have, but it's weird to suddenly see him so much more mature, playing the protective older brother role and such. Jazz is almost exactly the same though, which I can appreciate. She just seems a little caught up in her own dramas at the moment," he answers, and just like that the door bursts open.

"I love being a psychic," Bryce jokes, quickly sitting up and bringing his head from my lap before anybody catches us sitting in that intimate way.

Although the whole group walks into the room, I notice the way Jasmine is urgently tugging on Charlie's hand, and he eventually gives in. The two of them head straight through the room out towards the back deck without a word, and I hear the sound of a door quickly opening and then closing.

"What's up with them?" I ask Jordan who comes and sits down next to me, kicking his feet up to rest on the coffee table. I scrunch my nose at this and Bryce laughs at me, nudging my arm.

Jordan frowns momentarily, turning to look back in the direction they're headed.

"Beats me. I think they have a thing for each other but Jazzy has been messing around with Dan so Charlie is pissed. Why is Mateo acting like someone shoved a stick up his ass?" he answers, and I hear Bryce try and stifle a laugh from beside me after the comment about Mateo. I give him a warning glare, before answering Jordan.

"I told him that there wasn't going to ever be a relationship between us and he flipped," I explain, looking up and glancing around the room to make sure no one is listening.

Sure enough, everyone is still crowded in the kitchen, chatting loudly.

Jordan snorts at my explanation. "You do know that he's super jealous of Punkass over there, right?" he says, nodding towards Bryce who has stood up, fleeing the conversation and not walking upstairs.

"There's no way he's jealous of Bryce," I say, and Jordan rolls his eyes at me.

"Of course he's jealous. Bryce is the mysterious, tattooed bad-boy who seems to captivate your attention whenever he walks into a room. Not to mention that that guy is smart enough to give even you a run for your money, so I'm sure Matt isn't thrilled about that either. Plus, Bryce is super good looking," Jordan says, and I roll my eyes at.

"So helpful," I drawl, just as Bryce walks back into the living room, a book in one hand.

He sits down on one of the chairs rather than back next to me like before, and opens up the book and begins to read without a word.

He told me earlier that he's reading Pride and Prejudice, but when I read the cover of the novel he's holding, that's not what the title is. Orgueil et Préjugés, it says instead, and the fact that he's reading such a complexly written book in his third language has me taken back for a moment.

Jordan seems to think the same thing, as he turns to me and asks, "That guy speaks French?"

Remembering how Jordan wasn't here for Bryce's introduction the first day he showed up, I nod to him. "Yeah, he speaks—"

I'm cut off from completing my sentence when Bryce's phone goes off from where it's sitting on the table.

With an agitated huff, Bryce sets down his book and reaches for the device. He accepts the call, holds the phone up to his ear and begins speaking rapidly in a foreign language that I don't understand, but soon recognize as Arabic.

"—three languages. English, Arabic, and French," I say, finishing my thought, and Jordan just let's out a low whistle.

"Damn, he's really showing off like that while I can barely speak English properly," he jokes, and I grin at him.

Bryce's call seems to have caught the attention of those sitting in the kitchen, and when Bryce catches everybody staring he raises his middle finger in their general direction.

They slowly turn away, picking up their chatter where it had left off.

When Bryce hangs up the phone, he slips it into his pocket before picking up his book again. Mateo is still watching Bryce carefully, and he decides to say something.

"You're not concerned about all of us hearing your conversation?" he questions as Bryce sets the open book down in his lap, spinning around in his seat to glare at him.

"I was just talking to my dad, and it wasn't about anything serious, so no. Besides, if any of you understood a single word of what I was saying, I'll give you a million dollars straight up," he counters, and that's when Jordan chimes into to exchange.

"There's no way you have a million dollars," he says, sounding a little unsure of himself.

Bryce raises an eyebrow at him, not giving a verbal response, and I look up to see that Mateo has thankfully detached from the conversation.

Jordan's eyes widen at Bryce, who has a small smile on his face as he buries his nose pack in his book.

"It's a lost cause for you to try and estimate how much money I have," Bryce says to Jordan, looking up over the pages.

Is he implying that he has millions of dollars? I know that his father does for sure, but has Bryce really made that much money himself?

My lips feel a little chapped, and so I excuse myself to head up to my room to grab some lip balm from my bag.

I look out the window for a moment as I'm applying the chapstick to my lips, and that's when I realize that this bedroom looks out onto the back of the house, giving me a perfect view of the deck.

That's when I see Jasmine and Charlie, sitting there on one of the steps turned to each other as Jasmine rests her hand on Charlie's arm, leaning a little closer to him.

She says something that I unfortunately can't hear through the glass of the window, and Charlie opens his mouth to respond but I don't think he gets any words out before Jasmine closes the gap between their bodies by pressing her lips to his.

My brother's hands instantly move to her hair, holding her head close to his before she climbs into his lap. I quickly look away from the sight, not at all wanting to see how this exchange is about to end.

I head back downstairs, sitting next to Jordan again, just as Jasmine comes walking through the doorway, her cheeks stained a bright shade of red.

Charlie follows in a few seconds after her, and based on the way they're now avoiding eye contact with one another, it's safe to assume that things didn't go over well after their kiss.

The rest of the afternoon and evening pased by slowly. Around five o'clock, Ryan orders pizza for delivery as the very idea of eating fried food like that another night in a row makes my stomach turn.

By some miracle, Bryce bought the ingredients to make a chicken salad when he was at the grocery store earlier, and so we eat our salad quietly while everyone else chows down on pizza. My brother and Jasmine are still avoiding each other the best they can, and Jasmine is coincidentally sitting next to Daniel again which aggravates him even further.

Ethan comes knocking on the door later on that night, and though Ryan invites him in, everybody ends up heading out for another party, minus Jordan, Bryce, and I.

I'm surprised Jordan stayed back, but I'm sure he learnt something from his hangover. Jasmine looks thrilled to go and get drunk again though, so I can't say she feels the same.

The three of us that hung back end up chatting all night, and Bryce seems to be liking Jordan more and more by the minute. I'm glad he can get along with somebody else here, and it's overall a relaxed and enjoyable night.

We spend hours talking and watching lame TV shows before Jordan heads upstairs to go to sleep. Soon after this, the group from earlier comes walking in, and everyone heads upstairs to their bedrooms, including Ethan who's holding hands with Ryan. Jasmine and Daniel are ogling each other even as they walk up the stairs, and I quickly realize that I won't be sleeping in my bedroom tonight.

"The idea that I could be a psychic seems to be becoming more and more realistic by the minute," Bryce says to me after we're the only ones left downstairs once again.

I know he's referring to his joke yesterday about Jasmine and Daniel doing it in our room, meaning that I would have to sleep in his bed instead, and I shake my head at him, humouring his statement.

"I'll sleep on the couch," I tell him, and he shakes his head at me.

"I'll take the couch. You can sleep in the room without me," he offers, and although his offer is sweet I remember another potential factor to this all.

"How good is the insulation in the walls? Because if they're right next door, we'd still probably hear some stuff," I bring up, and Bryce sighs, nodding in agreement.

"You're right. Maybe we should go see if they're in your room or his first, though," he then suggests, and just like that we both stand up from the couch, heading upstairs.

When we reach the hallway, the door to the bedroom is shut, and after taking a few steps closer so that we're a meter or so away, we instantly hear things that I'd rather not hear.

Moaning. Lots of moaning.

"Yep. Abort mission," Bryce says, wrapping his arm around my waist and guiding me back downstairs.

We end up sitting on the couch together, laughing at what we just witnessed, before he grabs a blanket from the basket beside the couch. When he looks back at me his eyes are gleaming, and I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Only one blanket. Looks like we have to share," he says, patting the spot on the sofa directly next to where he's sitting. He pulls the blanket over himself, tilting his head to the side and smiling at me innocently.

I give in straight away seeing as I'm freezing cold right now, shifting over next to him so that we're basically curled up against one another. He then wraps an arm around my waist, drawing me even closer.

I lean my head against his chest, and he sighs, saying, "We seem to find ourselves like this an awful lot, don't we?"

His voice is soft and his lips are so close to my ear that a shiver is sent down my spine. I feel colder than before, and I draw the large, warm blanket closer to my chin, curling my knees up against my body.

Bryce gives me a mischievous grin, before wrapping his arms under my thighs and pulling me to him so that I'm practically curled up in his lap.

"Really?" I hiss at him, and he laughs, kissing me on the top of my head.

"Really. Goodnight, Blossom," he says to me, reaching to shut off the lamp perched on the side table.

"Goodnight," I huff, and I succumb to his embrace as I let myself press the side of my face to his chest.

Bryce is typing away on his phone, and I recall how he mentioned that he doesn't get much sleep.

I, on the other hand, quite enjoy sleeping though, so I shut my eyes right away.

Bryce's presence seems to be magical or something, because for the second time since I've been sleeping near him, I easily fall into a deep slumber.

Though I know it's illogical to think he's magic, I do know for sure that whenever he's around, I feel safe and comfortable.