When I wake up the next morning, alone in bed in a room that I don't recognize, my first instinct it to freak out.

I can't remember anything that happened last night, not past when I started on my fourth drink of the night.

Oh God. Oh no. Where am I?

I'm freaking out now, looking down at my body to find that all I'm wearing is a plain black T-shirt.

I shoot up in bed, trying to figure out what my next move should be, but I keep drawing blanks.

Last night was a mess. I shouldn't have lashed out like that, and I'm not even that upset at Bryce. In some messed up part of my brain, I actually find it kind of sweet that he cared that much. It was immature of him but I don't want another fight between us, so I'm willing to get over it.

The fact that I have no memory of who possibly could have been here with me is scaring me. I can't help but to think that history may have repeated itself, and that maybe someone kidnapped me.

Another one of my first thoughts is the possibility that I lost my virginity drunk, now having no memory of the event.

I don't think I would ever forgive myself if that were the case, but I guess I can't undo it.

Not to mention that I still have no clue where I am.

My head is throbbing and I have the worst headache of my life, but I still crawl out of the warm bed, straightening the covers out after me.

Hoping to locate my own clothes, I scan the room, spotting them in a pile at the foot of the bed, along with my shoes.

Thrilled that I'm able to change out of this shirt and leave, I'm about to reach for my dress before I realize just how nice this room is.

It's very dark and all the furniture is black, but I enjoy that there's at least a constant colour scheme going. The walls are lined with bookshelves, all of them filled with novels, and right in front of me I find a complete collection of Jane Austen novels.

"Hey, Blossom. I'm sorry I left you. I went to get something for you headache," Bryce says, walking into the room with a glass of water and a bottle of pills.

At the sight of him I feel an intense wash of relief.

He's always coming to my rescue, and I'll never be able to pay him back for it.

"Bryce!" I exclaim, hurrying over to fling myself into his arms.

I wrap my arms tight around him, pressing my face against his naked chest. He sets down the glass and bottle onto his desk, using his hands now to hold me close.

"You're awfully excited to see me," he teases, and I look up at him, smiling.

His hair is a little messy from sleep, and it's super adorable. I want to run my hands through it but I resist the urge, instead explaining myself by saying, "When I woke up I was terrified because I can't remember last night much and I didn't know where I was. I thought I had drunkenly gone home with some random creep but I'm so glad it was you. Thank you so much."

His brows suddenly furrow, and I'm a bit confused.

"You don't remember any of last night?" he asks me, and I blink, shaking my head at him.

"No, why? Did something happen? Wait, did we—" I start, cutting myself off before I can finish the question.

Bryce's eyes widen at me and he raises his hands to cup my face, tracing his fingertips along my cheekbones.

"Of course not. I wouldn't do that to you when you're drunk. I know what it means to you," he tells me, and I smile at him silently thanking him.

Letting go of me, his hands me the glass of water, shaking a pill out of the bottle into my outstretched hand.

"Aspirin," he answers before I even have to ask the question, and I nod, swallowing the pill before placing the water back on the wooden tabletop.

I'm acutely aware of how Bryce is watching my every movement, and when I turn back to him he has a shy smile on his face.

"Is something wrong?" I ask, suddenly insecure.

I momentarily wonder if there's something on my face, but I brush the thought away as Bryce reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ears.

"No, not at all. I'm just thinking about how beautiful you are," he says, and I stare down at my feet to hide the blush rising to my cheeks.

"You're too nice to me. You're always taking care of me and you always compliment me," I whisper quietly, and Bryce tips my chin up.

"You really aren't appreciated enough, I'm discovering. Every time anyone does anything remotely nice for you you find it surprising. I hope you realize that you deserve the world, Blossom," he whispers to me, and I feel my heart beat growing quicker at his words.

Catching my breath, I reply with, "I guess I'm always just surprised because I've been made to feel worthless for so long. It's strange to think that people care this much about me."

Bryce looks taken back by my confession, and he takes my hand in his. "You're worth everything," he tells me. "And I'm going to do everything in my power to help you realize that."

I blink up at him, feeling my heart racing in my chest.

"Thank you, Bryce. So much. It's just that after all that had happened those few years ago with the . . . kidnapping, I guess . . . Is that even the right word? Anyways, I'm just generally nervous about everything now, and it's a really comforting feeling to know that someone is watching out for me," I say quietly, suddenly squirming under his intense gaze.

I feel the need to glance away, looking to the side at a black-and-white photo that's perched on one of the shelves hanging from the wall.

Pictured is a young boy and a tall man, both of which I immediately recognize.

"This is you and your dad, right?" I ask, tracing my finger along the slim black frame.

I feel Bryce's hand on the small of my back as he walks up behind me, resting his chin on the top of my head.

"Yeah, it is," he answers me softly, toying with the ends of my hair.

His voice sounds a little bit sad, and it causes me to spin around to look at him once again.

"Is there something wrong?" I ask him, and he quickly shakes his head at me.

A thought strikes me, wondering if he was maybe hiding something when I asked him earlier about yesterday.

"Wait, did I say something bad last night? Because I promise you that I really didn't mean it, Bryce. I was drunk out of my mind, and I really can't remember anything. I definitely wasn't thinking straight," I say, and at the last sentence Bryce's eyes close shut for a second.

He purses his lips, shaking his head once again. "No, Blossom, you didn't say anything. Well, you said a lot of things, but nothing bad. You swear a lot when you're drunk, you know," he tells me, and I feel my jaw drop open.

"Really? I swear when I'm drunk? Perfect! That means I can never get drunk ever again!" I exclaim sarcastically, and Bryce laughs, walking past me and into the room.

He takes a seat on the small sofa leaning against one of the windows, peaking behind the curtains before turning back to me.

I decide to walk over to sit with him.

"Is there any reason why this room is so dark?" I ask him, crossing my legs before turning to the side.

He laughs a little to himself before telling me, "It's good for concentrating."

Looking around again at the room, I'm once again shocked at how many books he owns.

"You basically have a personal library in here," I comment, wondering if he spends his time reading or watching the huge television hanging on the wall across the room from his bed.

"I've probably read them all twice," he replies, and I can't tell if he's kidding or not as he reaches to the shelf beside him, pulling a copy of It by Stephen King out.

He flips the novel over in his hand, skimming his fingers along the back cover.

"I'm pretty sure I have all of his books in at least two languages each," he chuckles, setting the book back in its place on the shelf.

I watch him closely as his eyes scan the rows and rows of novels, admiring the way that his eyes are wide and entertained as he does so.

"Aren't all Stephen King books really scary?" I ask him, and he turns back to me, a small smile playing across his face.

"They're not all scary, just really dark," he tells me, standing up with a sigh.

He offers me his hand and I take it, letting him pull me up to my feet.

"Somebody should honestly just write a book about my life. That would be dark," he jokes, before guiding me out of the room and down the hall.

"You think your life would make an interesting story?" I question, and he tilts his head to the side, turning around to face me.

He thinks for a moment before answering, "Yeah, I do. Don't you agree? I mean, having one of your parents try and murder the other isn't exactly a normal occurrence for most kids our age," he says, staring blankly at the wall for a moment before blinking hard, presumably trying to clear his mind of the unhappy thoughts.

"Are you okay?" I ask him in a whisper, and he nods to me, giving my hand a squeeze before stepping down the stairs.

I follow him seeing as our hands are still linked together, leaving me with no choice, and he doesn't say anything until we reach the end of the huge spiral staircase.

"I'm fine. How about I make us something for breakfast and then I can drive you home. Is that all right with you?" Bryce responds, and his words make me realize something.

"Oh my God! My parents are probably freaking out right now. They have no clue where I am. They probably think that the same thing could have happened to me again. Darn it, where's my phone? I should call them," I start, my mind racing.

I can't believe that I didn't think about this sooner, and I feel like I should probably run right out this door and straight home to tell them that I'm okay.

My trance is broken by a hand on my face, holding my chin. Bryce tilts my head up to meet his, and I see a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

I'm instantly confused, but I'm calmed down now by Bryce's touch, so I give myself a moment to catch my breath.

"I used your phone to text your brother last night to tell him that you were with me. Don't worry about it," Bryce explains, and I involuntarily let out a huge sigh of relief.

"You really are too kind to me," I say, crossing my arms across my chest.

Bryce gives me a weak smile, turning around and walking in the direction of the kitchen. He raises a hand, gesturing for me to follow him, and I obey the command.

Upon looking around, I realize that Leo must have cleaned up the majority of the aftermath of last night's party as the kitchen and this particular living room are practically spotless.

Although I can't be sure about the state of the rest of the house, I'm sure Leo will probably leave the rest of the mess for Bryce to deal with.

"I really am sorry about what I did, Blossom. It was incredibly selfish of me. I ruined your chances with Mateo which was completely unfair because he really does like you, and you should know that. If you want to hate me, go ahead. I wouldn't blame you," Bryce says as we step into the kitchen.

There we find Leo laying down on the couch in the living room, his feet kicked up and a laptop in his lap. He's holding a phone up to his ear and he looks bored by whatever conversation he's having.

When we walk into the room, he notices Bryce and I, giving us a small wave before sitting up in his seat.

"Yes, Dad. I know that you never liked her, but things have already happened so it's too late now," Leo says into the phone before pausing to listen for a moment. He then continues, saying, "You know damn well that I didn't buy that gun. Why the hell would I own one?"

Although I can't be sure, it's safe to assume that Leo is probably talking about his ex-wife. Bryce seems to guess the same thing because he takes a seat at one of the stools by the island, pulling out the seat beside him and patting the top, suggesting that I sit down as well.

"Well, I've got to go. Bryce just woke up so I should make some breakfast," Leo says abruptly, still speaking to whoever is on the phone with him.

His eyes then widen, and he looks like he's trying to hold in a laugh.

He looks exactly like Bryce in this moment, but I suppose that it would be the other way around. I doubt that he could be any younger than forty, but he certainly looks good for his age, and there's still something youthful about his aura.

We find out what he found so funny when he says, "No, Bryce isn't married. You do realize that he's only seventeen, right?"

Bryce bursts out laughing, and Leo glares at him from across the room.

I have to bite down on my lower lip to keep myself from giggling too, and Leo sets his computer down on the coffee table, standing up and heading into the kitchen to join us.

"Yes, I'll call you later. Bye," Leo says, finally hanging up the call and dropping the phone onto the table with an exasperated huff.

Bryce has a devilish smirk on his face, and when Leo catches this, he shoves his son in the shoulder, sitting down next to him.

"I'm honestly surprised that you're still here, Lexi. My son was a real asshole to you, and I give you full permission to slap him in the face if you please," Leo tells me, making Bryce give him the middle finger.

Leo swats his wrist away, and I laugh at their little exchange, finding it funny how friendly they are with each other despite them being father and son.

Bryce then turns to me, and with a sincere expression on his face, he elaborates to his father's words, mumbling, "I second that. You can go ahead and hit me. I probably deserve it."

I rest my hand on his arm, and his skin feels hot against mine. He looks towards me, confused, but I give him a small smile that keeps him quiet.

"I'm seriously not mad at you, Bryce. I'll talk to Matt some other time and I hope he isn't super upset either, but I'm already over it. I'm kind of mad at myself for not caring more, but whatever," I explain to him, and he looks completely dazed.

"Really?" he asks, not hiding his shock, and I feel there's something that I'm missing but I let it go because of how thrilled he looks.

"So you forgive me?" he asks again, and I nod to him. He gets a huge childlike smile on his face and a bright twinkle in his eyes.

He takes my hand in his, raising it to his lips and kissing the back of it. I feel myself blush, especially when he then rests his palm on my knee.

"I promise that I won't do anything stupid like that ever again, Blossom. And I'm still going to make it up to you," Bryce beams, and although I know that I'm not wise for letting him off the hook this easily, he sounds so genuine right now.

All I want is to see him happy, and his smile is so adorable that I could never ruin it.

Leo clears his throat from behind Bryce's back, and we both turn around to face him.

"She's too good for you," he tells Bryce, and I watch closely as the two of them lock gazes.

Leo has a playful grin on his face, but it appears that Bryce is biting back harsh words.

Bryce doesn't look like he's going to back down, so it's a relief when Leo stands up from his seat, walking around to the other side of the counter.

"What are we going to eat?" he questions, and at this, Bryce walks over to the fridge.

Grabbing a carton of eggs from the refrigerator, he turns to look at me, asking, "Pancakes are okay with you?"

I nod in reply, watching as Bryce moves efficiently through the kitchen, convincing his dad that he can make everything himself in the process.

The three of us end up chatting about mindless topics as Bryce cooks, consistently refusing whatever help either Leo and I offer. The pancakes were delicious and we ended up eating quickly and in silence, that fact that I was still concerned about getting home apparent to Bryce. He finally let me help him with the dishes after we had finished eating, letting me assist in loading the washer after he rinsed the dishes as Leo went back to the living room, continuing to type away on his laptop.

Bryce left me alone in his room long enough for me to change into my dress from last night before he joined me inside, walking straight for the closet. He steps inside, shutting the door behind him, and I then see light slip through the crack under the door. I slip on my shoes as I wait for him, and when he emerges, he's changed into black jeans and a white T-shirt.

It isn't even fair that he looks this good with out even trying.

Picking the shirt I had borrowed up from where I had placed it on the bed, he winks at me before heading back to he closet.

"Where's my phone?" I question as soon as Bryce comes back into view, and he chuckles, walking over to one of the bedside tables. He unplugs my phone from the charger, heading back towards me.

Although my hair looks surprisingly presentable, I decide to pull it up into a bun at the top of my head using the hair tie I always have on my wrist. I glance in one of the mirrors in the room, deciding that the updo looks good enough.

Bryce appears behind me, and though at first I'm confused as of to what he's doing, I realize that he's clasping my necklace back around my neck.

He then leaves a small kiss on my shoulder blade, causing a shiver to go straight down my spine.

He keeps his face close to mine, whispering, "I had to take this off of you after you fell asleep last night. I figured it would be best if you didn't choke to death. I also had to pry your body off of mine to go take my contacts out before I could sleep. You were very cuddly."

My eyes widen at that last statement and I bury my face in my hands, groaning.

"I am so sorry," I apologize, feeling incredibly embarrassed and also guilty that Bryce had to put up with that.

He chuckles, turning me around so that I'm facing him, then grasping my wrists and pulling my hands away from my face.

"Like I've said, don't worry about it. Now let me take you home," Bryce insists, handing me my phone before his hands find my waist.

We're standing like this, too close for comfort for a moment too long before Bryce lets go of me.

I instantly miss his touch, but I grin when he reaches for my hand.

"You're really so much taller in these heels," he comments, trailing his free hand up my thigh.

His grip settles right at my hip, and I feel my breath hitch a little.

"That's kind of the point," I quip sarcastically, and Bryce bites his lip, pinching my skin a little bit.

"All right, Miss Brooks. Now, I'd rather your parents didn't kill me, and I'm already being greedy with all the time I'm spending alone with you, so let me drive you home."