Jaded (Jaded 1)

It didn't escape my notice that his hands swiftly pulled me farther down. I felt him jerk upwards at the contact and grinned, smug.

"You know what that was about." Bryce bent forward and kissed my shoulder. He trailed towards my neck and settled there.

"I know," I sighed and curled a hand around his neck to hold him in place.

No more words were shared until we were both panting and I had been transferred to lie on the couch. Bryce lifted himself up and said, out of breath, "I don't want to do this here. Not with those feeds still going…"

I shuddered at the reminder, but nodded and crawled up as he moved off the couch.

We walked in unspoken agreement to my bedroom. Bryce led and I followed. The light was left off as I silently packed a bag and Bryce waited on the edge of the bed. When I was done, I turned and Bryce lifted the bag out of my fingers. He carried it and his free hand found mine.

We walked down the stairs, flipped the lights off, and programmed the alarm system. The door was locked and we were in Bryce's car, heading towards his place with

in moments.

"What about your mom?" I hadn't asked before, but I asked now.

"She took Savannah and Luca to our Aunt Kelly's. Mom called and left a message. She doesn't feel safe with everything going on in the community."

"Her words?" I grinned and relaxed in the seat.

"Her words exactly." Bryce shrugged. "I'm okay knowing that my little sister and brother aren't around right now."

"Yeah."

Bryce reached over and took my hand. I never knew that my fingers grasped his, desperately.

The rest of the way was in silence. When we got outside, it was peaceful. It was shattered when we both shut our doors. Bryce led me inside, in the dark, and we moved into his bedroom.

He waited on the bed as I moved into his bathroom and cleaned for the night. We bypassed each other and then I curled underneath his blankets. As I waited, a tear slid down, but it was brushed briskly away and I sat up to open Bryce's window an inch.

He always liked that. He liked the cool breeze of fresh air.

When he came back in, he sat on the edge of the bed and looked at me. Our eyes met as the moonlight filtered inside and cast shadows across our features, but our eyes were glitteringly alive and we saw the other.

"I can't…" He sighed, raggedly.

I shook my head. There was too much in the air with Corrigan in jail, the stalker still out there, and Bryce was leaving me. He couldn't say anything to make any of it right so I just shook my head.

Bryce sighed again and moved towards me.

Tenderly, he kissed me.

The kiss inflamed and I found myself clutching to him. Bryce shifted so I could lay down and he rose above me. I closed my eyes against the onslaught of pleasure. He stretched out on the side with one leg thrown over mine, proclaiming his hold, as his mouth kissed mine again and slid down. With each kiss that trailed south, I heard his breath exhale. I felt his breath on my skin and raked my hands through his hair.

Bryce lifted his head, met my eyes, and slid back up to kiss my lips.

We made love for the rest of the morning. The last twenty four hours had rolled slowly by and we hadn't enjoyed the night. It was morning when we got to bed and it was still morning when we breathed after the last climax that pulsed our bodies. Bryce collapsed on me with an arm thrown around my waist and his head rested on my shoulder.

He fell asleep and I stayed awake. I trailed a hand down his back, feeling the sweat, and muscles that aligned and gave him the structure of who he was.

I fell in love with him. I had said it again.

I wasn't his girlfriend and laying there, with him breathing for us, I realized that I wasn't going to be his girlfriend. We weren't simple like that. We were best friends and lovers, but girlfriend/boyfriend limited us beneath what we were. We were more and I was loath to take a label that didn't justify who I was or how I felt.

I heard movement in the house and slid out from underneath Bryce's warmth. I pulled on my loose scrubs that hung low on my hips and grabbed one of Bryce's sweatshirts to cover my top. Silently, I opened the door and moved out as Bryce rolled over in the bed, fast asleep.

When I moved into the kitchen, I stopped short in surprise.

Jefferson Scout stood at the coffeepot, frowning fiercely like it was alien technology.

"Water and coffee grounds," I said by a greeting. I leaned against the counter, stuffed my hands inside Bryce's sweatshirt, and smirked. "And then you push 'on', but you'll want to make sure it's plugged into the outlet first."

Jefferson nodded, "Ah. I got it now." He smiled and I saw he had Bryce's smile.

"Bryce told me that everyone was gone," I murmured, feeling slightly foolish.

"Yes, well…" He glanced at me, cautiously.

I replied, "I know about the divorce. Bryce told me."

"Yes, well…," he continued. "It was too tempting to pass up. My wife left town once she heard that I was back and well—my own home without my wife sounded wonderful."

I hadn't quite expected that answer. He sounded tired, resigned, and sad. He didn't sound like a father who was about to leave his family behind, with no means to pay their bills.

"Bryce is sleeping…" I stopped, realized how that sounded, but I finished anyway, "I know that he'll be happy that you're here."

Jefferson smiled, more to himself than to me, and he noted, "I'm not my wife, Sheldon. I know what you mean to my son even if he doesn't realize that I know, but I do. I'm not going to burn you at the stake like I'm sure that my wife would like to."

I laughed, genuinely, and replied, "What are you talking about? Your wife is one of my biggest fans. She prays for me, did you know?"

"Yes. She prays for everything, but I doubt she lives a very Christian lifestyle."

"No, I doubt she does."

He sighed as he finished filling the coffeepot. He pushed the 'on' button and remarked, "You know—I don't think I've ever had a conversation with you before. How long have you been with my son?"

"Seven years." I acknowledged the truth in my response and knew I had kept him away for most of those years. Hindsight is crystal and bitterly true.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you…finally." Jefferson Scout smiled an adorable smile and I realized why AnnaBelle Scout had fallen in love in the first place. He may have been quiet, but he was gorgeous underneath his seemingly nerdy exterior. A businessman and inventor (from what Bryce had told me once), but I saw a lot of Bryce in his father.

Color me biased, but I liked the guy.

"If there's something I've learned from even starting this whole ordeal, it's not to believe what you're told." Jefferson nodded quickly, poured himself a cup of coffee that had slowly filtered through, and added, "Some things don't add up and living with my wife—I pushed a lot of those nagging little things to the back of my mind, but I've paid the price now. She'll take me for everything I have. I'm sure of it, but at least now I have a clear mind. And I can judge for myself what makes sense and what doesn't. Silly, yes, I know, but…I've learned that I can only say what I know. If I didn't, I wouldn't think of saying it at all."

It was an oddly placed speech and I knew that he spoke from his personal demons, but it jarred my own.

Everything unraveled as I heard two of his sentiments.

Bryce had lied. He wasn't working to support the family. His father had enough money and his wife would take most of that from him.

And Bryce had talked about something that he shouldn't have known. He had said, before the police even told me—"He moved both bodies."