Chapter Eighteen

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Songs for this chapter:
• ghostin - Ariana Grande
• Why Try - Ariana Grande

Chapter Eighteen:

Lexi's POV

I can't believe I'm really doing this right now.

I had another one of those damn nightmares after it's been so long and it's making me cry harder than ever before.

The visuals are more and more similar to what actually happened each time, and the dream lasts longer and longer. I'm so glad that Bryce woke me up, and even though I wish he didn't have to witness this, I'm glad he was the one to come to my side rather than anyone else here.

His arms feel so safe, and he smells great, like spice with a hint of something sweet. Even though I initiated this embrace between us, he surprisingly hasn't pulled away.

Instead, he pulled the duvet over our bodies as he holds me close, running his fingers through my hair.

I should feel bad for sending Mateo away like that, but I don't. I know he cares about me but I don't feel the same comfort from him as I do from Bryce.

Oh dear God, I'm going insane. I can't stop crying because it just felt so real.

"You need some sleep, sweetheart," Bryce whispers against the side of my head.

He's correct, so I reluctantly let go of him, shifting away from the warmth of his body to the other side of the bed.

I can't look him in the eye right now. I'm so embarrassed. I'm being so dramatic right now, and I hate myself for it.

"You're right. You can probably just go now," I tell him and my voice is too quiet.

He seems to catch it though, and he rolls over on to his side so that he's facing me.

"You're kicking me out right after you let me in, huh?" he questions, raising an eyebrow at me.

I didn't mean to come across as rude but I just assumed that he would like to go back to sleep. It must be super late. Though I do recall that he claimed I didn't wake him up, so perhaps he was having troubles sleeping too or something.

"Um, no?" I respond, feeling unsure, and his expression softens. There's a few inches of space between us now, and I get a chance to really look at him since he walked in there.

He's wearing glasses. I didn't know he had bad eyesight. Maybe I don't pay attention as much as I believed, but he must wear contacts so it's not my fault.

He's also shirtless and I know it's rude to stare but I can't help my wandering eyes.

All I can think is damn, he must workout a lot.

"Why aren't you wearing a shirt? And what's up with the glasses?" I prod, and Bryce laughs out loud. He has a great laugh.

His eyes twinkle as he raises a hand, gesturing for me to come closer to him.

"You're shaking, come here," he explains to me, and when I look down at my hands I see how badly they're quivering.

He rolls his eyes. "I started wearing glasses in ninth grade. And you're lucky I at least put pants on before I came in here," he says, making my cheeks flush.

He lifts a finger and taps me on the tip of my nose, before banding his arms around my waist and pulling me back to him.

I look up at him and I know my eyes are wide, and they just widen more when he takes my hand in his, raising it up to his lips and kissing the back of it.

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