Chapter 20
Bryce
I'm flattered beyond measure Marissa found me attractive, even though we were only young, dumb teenagers back then. But the thing is that I also thought she was phenomenal. She always looked cute with her doe eyes and warm smile, which could make thousands of hearts race.
"Well, I thought you looked incredible as well."
Marissa’s face morphs into a look of surprise, and it's obvious she wasn't expecting the compliment. And it's weird because she is the most beautiful woman I know. She turns heads wherever she goes, and I always feel like punching those guys on set who gawk at her like hawks.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, thanks."
She tilts her head down, purposely letting her hair form a curtain by the sides of her face and shielding her blush. But I still pick up on the faint crimson red.
"I feel like," Marissa says, yawning, "I'm going to pass out from exhaustion soon."
I glance at her with concern, noting the dark circles under her eyes. "You look beat. How about I stick around until you fall asleep?"
Marissa smiles gratefully, her eyelids drooping. "That would be nice, thank you. But promise me, you won't pull any pranks on me while I'm asleep. I don't want to wake up with a fake spider on my face or something."
I raise my hands in mock surrender, a playful grin tugging at my lips. "Scout's honor. No pranks, I promise."
She laughs, her eyes finally closing as she settles more comfortably into the pillows. "Good. I'll hold you to that."
I sit by her bedside, watching over her as she drifts into a fitful sleep, her brow furrowed in unease, even in her slumber. Despite the fact that I’m late and that my phone won’t stop blowing up, I can't tear myself away from her side.
She looks so vulnerable, so fragile lying there in the dim light of her room, and for a moment, my heart aches with a fierce protectiveness that takes me by surprise.
I've never felt this way about anyone before, not even the countless women who have passed through my life like ships in the night.
But Marissa is different, special in a way I can't quite put into words. She's not like the other women I've known, all-flash and glamor and empty promises.
She's real, down-to-earth, the girl next door with a heart of gold, and she has a spirit that shines like a beacon in the darkness.
As I watch her sleep, a sudden surge of emotion wells up within me, threatening to overwhelm me with its intensity. Unable to help myself, I reach out to brush a stray lock of hair away from her forehead, my fingers lingering against her skin for a moment longer than necessary.
She stirs at my touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she shifts in her sleep. I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest as I realize just how close we are, how close I am to crossing a line I swore I'd never cross.
But then she opens her eyes, blinking up at me in confusion, and the moment passes like a fleeting dream.
I pull back, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I stumble over my words in a desperate attempt to cover up my indiscretion.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," I stammer, my voice coming out more gruffly than intended. "I thought I should check your temperature, see if the fever's gone down."
Marissa blinks up at me, her gaze searching mine for something I can't quite name. "Thank you, Bryce," she says softly. "That's very sweet of you."
I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest as I struggle to contain the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.
This is ridiculous. She's just the girl next door, my sister's best friend. She's off-limits, untouchable, and I've already rejected her once before.
But even though I’ve been putting in my best efforts to push her away, to keep her at arm's length, I can't deny the pull she has over me—the way she seems to worm her way into every corner of my mind and refuse to let go.
As we sit there in silence, the tension between us is thick and palpable. I’m longing to touch and feel her soft skin against mine. I want to reach out to her, to take her in my arms and never let her go, but I know I can't.
Not now, not ever.
She’s Cindy’s friend, and I’m not the type of guy who has these weird feelings. None of this should be happening.
So instead, I do the only thing I can think of. I stand up abruptly, my chair scraping against the hardwood floor as I push it back with unnecessary force.
"I, uh, I should go," I mutter, my voice thick with emotion. "I'll, uh, I'll see you later, Marissa."
With that, I turn on my heel and practically flee from the room, leaving Marissa behind with a sense of confusion and longing that I can't quite shake.
She’s getting to me, and I’m starting to realize that I'm not as immune to her charms as I thought.