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He's always been my protector, even back then.
He runs a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching slightly. "It's just ... I know how guys can be sometimes, you know?"
His words catch me off guard, and I can't help but furrow my brow. "What do you mean? They've always been perfectly nice to me."
Bryce scoffs, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips. "Yeah, I'm sure they have. Guys like that, they're always nice when they want something."
I step closer, my eyes searching his face for answers. "What are you trying to say, Bryce?"
He looks away, his gaze fixated on some distant point. "Nothing. Forget I said anything. I just ... I don't want you to get mixed up with the wrong crowd, that's all."
The way he says it, the slight hesitation in his voice, it sends a flutter through my chest. I'm suddenly aware of how close we're standing. The air between us crackles with an energy I can't define.
But I can't let myself get swept away, not when there's so much left unsaid between us.
I take a step back. My voice is soft. "It's okay. I know you're just looking out for me. But you don't have to worry. I can handle myself."
With that, he sighs and walks away.
Bryce is acting weird.
The day winds down, and the producers call it a day. I gather my belongings, ready to head home after another long day of work.
But before I can make my escape, Bryce appears at my side, a determined glint in his eyes.
"Hey, Marissa," he says, his voice tinged with an unusual seriousness, "want a ride home?"
Bryce wants to drive me home? I hesitate, taken aback by the offer. The idea of spending more time with him feels ... out of place, to say the least.
But part of me enjoys his company, even now. Before I can overthink it, I nod. "Sure, thanks. I appreciate it."
We make our way to his car, the comfortable silence punctuated only by the sounds of the production team cleaning up.
"Actually, I was thinking ... instead of going home, would you mind accompanying me to my family's house for dinner?"
I blink, taken aback by the sudden change in plans. "Your family's house? Bryce, I'm not family. I don't think it's appropriate for me to intrude on your family dinner."
He sighs, his gaze focused on the road ahead. Even in such a distraught state, he still looks so freaking edible.
"I know, I know. But the truth is, things between me and my dad have always been ... strained. I just ... I don't want to go alone, you know?"
I pause, my heart aching for Bryce. I know that strained relationship with a father all too well.
He may look calm, but I can see the storm in his eyes. His knuckles are white from the pressure of holding the steering wheel.
"I understand, but I'm not sure if I'm the right person to bring along. Your family probably won't appreciate me showing up uninvited."
He shakes his head, a persistent gleam in his eyes. "Trust me. My parents adore you. They've always treated you like a daughter anyway. And having you there might actually make things better."
I chew on my bottom lip, torn between my sense of propriety and my desire to help a friend in need. I want to help him in any way I can, but what will his parents think if we show up together?
What will Cindy think of me coming to her house with her brother? She knows nothing about our history, and I can't let her find out that I have a secret crush on her brother.
He gives me a pleading look, his eyes earnest and vulnerable. I rarely see him in this state, and his defenselessness yanks at my heartstrings.
"Please, Marissa. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important to me."
What's the worst that could happen?