Taking care of an injured Dean was a lot like taking care of a drunk Dean. Injured Dean needed to take pain medicines, which he happened to have in his pocket. I wasn't entirely sure whether they were prescribed or not, but I was going to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"You're very pretty when you're playing nurse," he hummed as he reached up to boop my nose. Unfortunately, his aim was getting worse and he nearly popped my eye out. Thankfully I dodged him at the last minute. "You'd be a great mom, you know?"

I smiled. Normally the topic of the future would freak me out. I mean, we've barely talked about college. How were we going to think past that? But now, the conversation was light. He was just saying whatever popped into his mind. I enjoyed it, actually. You know, considering he was usually a closed book.

"Did I ever tell you how pretty you are? No. You're hot. You're hot and sweet and beautiful all at the same time. I don't know how it's possible."

I raised an amused brow. "You're being awfully nice."

"I'm always nice!"

"Sure," I drawled. His head was on my lap as I sat on the couch. My fingers were running through his hair but I'd occasionally touch his face to make sure he wasn't an iceberg. So far we were doing okay.

"Sometimes it scares me how much I like you," he whispered softly. I looked down to see green irises swirling with intensity. "Like, when I woke up, the first person I needed to see was you. And when I broke up with you, all I could think about was you. And even now, all I want is you you you."

My amusement was replaced with shock. Dean was being so open right now. So vulnerable, I almost felt guilty... like I was taking advantage of him or something.

He closed his eyes and continued. "I do regret all the shit I've done though. I miss when times were easy."

"Oh, so like when you stole all my Kung Pao and we fake dated?"

His eyes popped open. "Exactly! No gang shit. The worst I had to worry about was losing you to that prick, Andrew, but I knew I could take him if I needed to."

"Drew is a prick," I agreed. "But you also kept a lot of things from me back then. I don't know if I'd want to go back to that."

"Isn't ignorance is bliss your life motto?"

Yeah, he had a point. "It's different when I'm not the one being ignorant. I don't like secrets. It makes me feel like I'm excluded from some type of cool club."

He lazily grinned, reminding me he was doped up on drugs. "I have a secret."

"Oh, yeah? What is it?"

"I don't think Skylar really likes Reece. I think she's back on her bullshit."

Oh. I definitely didn't expect him to say that.

"Reece is the one guy she knows would really get to me. I'd be happy for him if I wasn't sure she was just using him." He paused and frowned. "But maybe I should let him."

"Why do you say that?"

"He kissed you." He sounded like a bitter child when he said that.

I couldn't help but laugh. "That was like a year ago."

"Still." He shifted so his face was nuzzled into my stomach. "I sent him to watch over you and he fucking kissed you. If I didn't show up, who knows what would've happened."

I winced. I couldn't remember the details of that night, as I was blacked out, but from what I heard, it was bad. I was a mess, kissing anyone and everyone (or at least trying to). If Dean wasn't there, would I have gone further with Reece?

No. I doubt he would take advantage of me.

"That sucks," I sighed. "About Skylar, I mean. Reece is a nice guy."

He turned his head to narrow his eyes at me. "Are you trying to make it worse?"

I laughed again before patting his cheek. "Sorry, sorry. I just meant, he's a good friend. And honestly, he wasn't even that good of a kisser." I didn't remember that for sure but I figured it was nice to boost Dean's ego, so I did.

He seemed satisfied. "Good girl."

Butterflies erupted in my stomach. Who knew two words could be so hot?

If he wasn't stuffed up with drugs, I would've ran him upstairs.

It's also the reason I didn't dwell on the Skylar topic. He wasn't even aware of the words coming out of his mouth. We could talk about that when he was not doped up.

"Are you sure you don't want more soup?" I asked as I checked his temperature. He was still cold, which was uncharacteristic for him. Usually, he was my warmth.

"I want more you."

Oh god, this was too good. Dean was a romantic, but he wasn't cheesy. He'd hate the words coming out of his mouth.

Guess I'd have to hold this against him forever.

"Bubs, it's like," I paused, checking my phone, "five in the morning. I really think you should sleep."

"You should sleep."

"I should," I solemnly nodded. He didn't expect that, so his drugged-up brain made his jaw drop in surprise.

"What? No, don't leave." He clung to my shirt and buried his face against my belly, which was shaking from laughter.

"Dean, you have got to take drugs more often," I snickered, running my nails on his scalp. "Relax. Aren't these drugs supposed to make you woozy? How are you not tired?"

"I'm...I'm not a loser like you."

I snorted. "If you're dating a loser, that makes you a loser too."

"Whatever," he grumbled before closing his eyes.

Within minutes, his breathing was steady. He was finally asleep, thank God. I was in an awkward position. I didn't want to move, risking him waking up, so I just leaned back as much as I could onto the couch cushion and shut my eyes.

What I didn't expect was for someone to jam their key into the lock.

~~~

Nerves. Sweat and nerves.

Across the dining room table, my dad was glaring daggers at me. He had his 'lawyer look' on. It made me feel like a criminal. In a way, I was. I had broken the laws of this house. His laws.

"Daddy," I innocently batted my lashes and used the sweet tone he liked so much. I was always a daddy's girl, so this couldn't be too hard.

But it was.

He didn't falter a bit. Instead, he kept his tone hard like he was talking to someone in court. "Arabella, we had one rule. No boys spending the night."

I winced at the use of my full name. That's how you knew I was in trouble. I sent a silent prayer to the upper beings before opening my mouth to spit out a technicality – one he would be proud of if it wasn't being used against him. "Actually, you said I can't have any boys staying the night, in the same bed as me. We were on the couch, not doing anything sexual, might I add."

His mouth opened and closed like a fish before his face turned a slight shade of red anger. "That means Dylan! Not your boyfriend! You know the rules."

Before I could even think of an argument, my mom came clicking into the kitchen. "He's okay. His body temperature is a little low, so we need to warm him up. Other than that, his wound seems to be healing just fine."

I let out a breath of relief. I knew he was okay but getting the extra confirmation from my mom was reassuring.

"See, daddy? I was just helping Dean out!"

"He has a family that can help him," he growled. My mom put her hand on top of his, silently telling him to calm down. And he did.

For a second, I could only stare at the two. They were acting so lovey, like they used to. It made me smile.

"Ary, we still need to talk about this," she said in a more controlled tone. "You know you're not allowed to have boyfriends spend the night."

Then I did the shittiest thing a sister could do. "Justin brought Erin over for a sleepover too."

Oops.

My dad waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, that's different. Justin is..." He faltered, looking at my challenging expression. My mom, instead of helping him out, leaned in as if she was eager to hear what he had to say. He gulped and lowered his gaze to the table. "Nevermind."

"No, no! Please tell me how Justin doesn't have to follow the rules because he's a boy," I said in a fake enthusiastic tone. Even my mom took my side in this one. She silently urged him to prove me wrong. which he couldn't. He knew we were right.

"Okay, Justin will be properly punished," he relented finally.

But I wasn't satisfied. "Look, Dean was injured and standing outside of the house. How could I leave him be? Come on. I even kept him on the couch so he wouldn't take the wrong hint."

He gave me a disbelieving look. "You kept him on the couch because you couldn't lug his body up the stairs."

Busted.

"Bill," my mom interrupted. She squeezed his hand again, giving him a warm look this time. "She did the right thing. Besides, they weren't doing anything wrong. We saw them."

I enthusiastically nodded in agreement while sending my mom a silent thank you. Her response was to flash me a we're talking about this later look. I figured as much. Then again, it was better than hearing an unnecessary lecture from my dad that would remind me of the misogyny lingering in his mind – only because I knew Justin wouldn't get the same lecture. If he did get in trouble – which I doubt he would – then he'd just get grounded without the talk about teen pregnancies. It sucked and the mere idea of it made the guilt of snitching slowly ease away.

Wasn't that how siblings worked? One goes down, we all go down?

"We'll think of a suitable punishment," dad finally muttered, which meant the war had been lost to the Great Wise Mother.

Thank God for supportive moms, am I right?

"Okay, let's talk about this in the morning because I am exhausted." Mom yawned to prove her point and we all subconsciously followed. "Bill, help Dean into one of the guest rooms. He can't be cramped on the couch the entire night."

Dad liked Dean, so he didn't protest too much. Together we each grabbed on his arms and put them around our shoulders, dragging him up the stairs. It was a lot easier than the journey from the front door to the couch, thanks to my dad. Dean was switching in and out of consciousness. Dad decided it was best to put him in the room across from mine, although I'm not sure why. Maybe he knew I'd die from worry.

"Arabella, stay," Dean whined when we put him in bed. Dad sent me an amused look and I couldn't blame him.

"Hey, I'm right across the hall if you need me, okay?" I whispered softly. He didn't respond. I was pretty sure he was asleep again.

Dad looked proud as we walked out of the room, but he didn't speak on it. "Alright, I'm heading to bed."

Before he could leave, I grabbed his arm to stop him. "How's Gramps?"

He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "He's been better, but he isn't at his worst so that's something."

"That's good," I said gently. Not only did I feel guilty for always snapping at my parents for being away, but I also felt bad for my dad. Grandpa and I weren't close, but he was my dad's dad. It must've been hurting him. "Hopefully he gets better soon."

He squeezed my hand on his bicep and we both dropped it.

"Alright, well, I should probably get to school..."

"No!" he quickly interjected. "I mean... you're exhausted and you'll get into an accident if you drive now. Just stay home and sleep it off."

I grinned. "You just don't want to be alone with Dean when he wakes up."

He grimaced. "I might just kill him. He's a good kid, but getting shot doesn't put him on my nice list, especially because you didn't even tell us about it."

I ignored the last part. "He got shot! How is that his fault?"

He didn't deign me with an answer but he gave me that you know how look. It was the same reason I kept dangling over Dean's head. Why did he have to join a gang in the first place? But, there's nothing we could do now. If he had never joined it, I probably never would've met him at all.

"You should've called us, kiddo," he said in a quieter tone. "You didn't have to deal with this alone."

I sighed because he was right. "I should've... but you guys were with Gramps and he needed your attention."

His frown deepened. "But–"

I noticed the frown lines on his face and the bags underneath his eyes. "Hey, how about we talk about this when we're all fully rested? You look like you've had a long night."

"Me? Look at you," he teased back before nodding. "Good night, kiddo."

"Love you, dad."

"Love you too."

I went to my room and waited fifteen minutes after I heard the door to their room click. Then, as stealthily as possible, I snuck across the hall into Dean's room.

Surprise, surprise.

Without even speaking, I got into the covers. I assumed he was asleep but his arms immediately wrapped around my stomach. I turned around to face him and noticed his eyes were still closed. He was still sleeping! The thought of him accidentally doing this to my dad was hilarious and it took everything in me to not burst out laughing.

Dean made a small humming noise before shifting so his face was in the crook of my neck. His nose skimmed the skin before inhaling.

Hm... was he really asleep?

I didn't bother testing it. I didn't want to know. If he really was subconsciously this cute, I was going to cry out of happiness and never leave him until he got sick of me.

I couldn't sleep. I wasn't sure if this was because I was scared my dad would catch me in here or because something was going to happen to Dean. Either way, I stayed up just staring at him like an absolute creep.

The sun was already popping up through the windows. I decided to text my friends, for once, to let them know I wasn't coming. Ever since Dean had woken up, I had been going to school. It was a Friday now, so I hopefully wasn't missing too much. I already had work to catch up on from the two days I did skip.

I also texted Damien, to be safe. I let him know that Dean had stupidly come over last night and not to stress. Maybe, just maybe, his mom would be less pissed if the news came from him.

When I put my phone back down, Dean shifted a little before popping his head up slowly. He smiled at me, then winced. I guess the pain meds were worn off.

"You stayed," he said regardless, with a huge cheesy smile.

"I did, and you need to rest. Go back to sleep."

"I can't. It hurts."

My brows raised in surprise. I think this was the first time ever he wasn't putting on a brave face for me. Normally he'd brush things off that pained him, physically and emotionally. For him to openly say that he was hurting came as a major shock to me.

"Do you want to take more meds?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No. I don't want to be all loopy anymore. Plus I'd rather face your father with a clear head."

I smiled at him while I brushed his hair away from his face. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"My mom's a doctor. She understands."

"And your dad's a lawyer. I'm not the good guy in his books."

"Dean," I sighed, wrapping my arms around him. I stayed careful to avoid his injured spot as I nuzzled my nose into him and took a big whiff.

Yummy.

"It's not like my dad doesn't know about your past. He'll understand. Plus I think you admitting it to him was a big hit in his books. You're not lying about anything."

"I know," he huffed. His hot breath skimmed the top of my head. "Your dad just makes me nervous."

"He makes everyone nervous," I snorted. "Don't worry. I think he'll be okay. I mean, he dragged you up the stairs without dropping you."

Dean's groan rumbled in his chest. "He did what?! Now he'll hate me even more. How embarrassing."

I laughed, muffling the sound with his chest. "He doesn't. Besides, if he doesn't cool down by the time, I'll play the 'you missed my birthday' card." Then I grimaced. "And then they'll play the 'your grandpa is dying' card."

Dean pulled away and scanned my face. "How are you?"

"You're the one who's lying in pain and you're asking me how I am?" I let out a small laugh.

He tenderly cupped my face. His hands were warm again, thank God. His thumb trailed over my cheek as his eyes intensely bored into mine. "Exactly. You know two people who have been in the hospital recently, plus your birthday was just last week, and we still have to talk about that night."

"What's there to talk about? Yes, you were in the hospital but you're good now and that's all that matters. There's absolutely nothing I can do about my grandpa but my parents have it handled anyway. As for the talk, what do you want to know? I mean, we had sex and it was good."

He hesitated before wrapping his arms around me. "Dylan told me you had nightmares," he mumbled against my hair.

I tensed. Dylan wasn't supposed to tell anyone! That was in pure confidence.

"I have nightmares plenty of nights," I casually brushed off. It was a lie, obviously, but I didn't need him to know that. I didn't need him to worry about me because he needed to focus on himself and we all knew that he'd prioritize me.

"Arabella." His voice was laced with disapproval. Even though I couldn't see him, I could imagine his expression. There'd be a small furrow between his brows and his lips would be set in a frown.

He gave that expression to me a lot.

"Yo! Bella!"

I jolted up, looking at the door of the guest room. From across the hall, I could hear footsteps and the sound of my door opening, followed by a confused noise made by Dylan.

"Doesn't he always have perfect timing," Dean grumbled as he smooshed his face against the pillow.

Yeah, normally Dylan was interrupting us at the worst times, but it was perfect today.

"Go back to sleep. If the pain gets too much, eat a damn pill. I'll wake you up in a few hours, 'kay?"

When I attempted to slither off the bed, he grabbed my wrist. I turned to him, a curious expression on, to see him puckering his lips.

"Oh my god," I laughed before leaning down and going for a peck. We hadn't kissed for a while, so Dean obviously wanted more. Unfortunately for him, I wasn't the type of girl making out with her boyfriend while her friend was looking for her. I pulled away, earning a small pout. "Go to sleep!"

"Okay, okay."

"I might bring Ryder up here to keep you company."

"Okay."

"Goodnight," I grinned and kissed his forehead before subtly slipping out of the guest room. Dylan was nowhere in sight. I checked my bedroom across the hall but it was empty. Hmm.

When I searched the entire upstairs and came up empty, I decided to head downstairs. He'd show up eventually, right? I made myself a coffee and let Ryder out to use the bathroom. It had just then occurred to me that both of my parents were asleep, so how did Dylan get in?

It was only eight in the morning, which meant he should've been at school. What in the world was he doing here?

I heard some screams from the game room and rolled my eyes. It should've been the first place I looked.

I leaned against the doorway, my mug wrapped around my cold hands. When I peeped in, I saw both Dylan and Justin on the couch, playing COD. Shame on them!

"Shouldn't you be at school?"

Both jumped at the sound of my voice but quickly re-emerged in their game. They were hunched down, their elbows resting on their knees. Their controllers were moving with their bodies as they shot at everything on the screen.

"I asked mom and dad if I could stay home since you were," Justin said first, never taking his eyes off of the screen.

"And I came over to make sure you weren't back on your depressive tendencies," Dylan followed.

"Mom and dad are asleep so I don't believe you, Justin. As for you, Dylan, if you're here for me, why don't we hang out?"

"I'm busy," Dylan distractedly mumbled. At this point, I was sure he wasn't even paying attention to me.

Ryder began barking outside. With a sigh and a middle finger to their backs, I clutched at the warmth of my mug as I went out into the February air. My pajamas weren't appropriate for the freezing weather but if I stood in the direct sunlight, I'd be alright.

However, there was a reason Ryder was barking. A loud groan escaped my lips as I spotted a familiar blond entering the fence of my backyard. Why didn't anyone go to school?!?!

"Go away, Drew," I called out, holding out my hand to absently pet Ryder.

"No. I need to speak to you." His tone was firm, like he meant business. My brows quirked in surprise. I'd never heard him speak to me like this.

And for some reason, it worked.

I gestured to the lounge chairs that were covered in snow. His lips curved into the smallest of smiles before he remembered he was supposed to be strict right now. I took the seat with less snow, swiping it off entirely. My butt was still getting wet.

This was a bad idea. Why was I listening to him? Wasn't it just a few weeks ago that I had completely brushed him off?

Maybe it was because of the way he was speaking to me. He was using his 'captain' voice – well before he was kicked off. Still, it was unnerving.

I knew I wouldn't forgive him easily though. His hurtful words managed to echo around in my brain. Whatever bullshit excuse he had, I wouldn't believe him.

"I was hurt," he blurted out. When I pulled my gaze away from the covered pool to his face, I noticed he lost all of his cool. He looked nervous. "I was hurt because Dean had messed you up, yet you were so obsessed with him that you couldn't look past it. I was hurt because I tried to be there for you and you still preferred him over me. It sucked, not having the girl you liked, like you back."

You're telling me.

"Drew, Dean wasn't the one who messed me up," I sighed like I was exhausted. Hell, I was exhausted. He kept doing this; using emotional blackmail for me to forgive him. I was so sick and tired of it.

"I know, I know. But still. He hurt you so much by leaving you and then leaving you again. I thought it wasn't fair that he kept getting chances but I didn't."

"Then again, Dean doesn't call me a bitch every time something doesn't go his way."

He grimaced like the words left a bad taste in his mouth. Good.

I turned away and looked back at Ryder running around in the yard. The cold didn't seem to bother him.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," he sighed. "I have this sick desire to only want someone when they don't want me. As soon as they catch feelings, mine are gone."

That explains a lot, actually. Andrew used to be the type where he'd be in relationships for a few weeks, then completely bail. I always thought of it as a less douchey version of a manwhore.

"So you're saying every time you'd push me away, it's because I was no longer playing your stupid game?"

"Yes." He let out a bubble of air. "It's fucked up and I know that. I'm not here to ask you to forgive me, even though I'd like it. I just figured I'd explain myself. I just don't do relationships. With you, I thought that maybe it would be different. Then you still didn't like me even though you had no reason to not. I was hurt, yes. My ego came into the way. But like now, I realize that it was fucked up. I don't want to date you, Bella."

Ouch.

"You're better off with someone who won't get bored easily, which is practically everyone else because you're amazing. And I feel so guilty because I expected you to change me, and when you didn't, I freaked. I'm terrified I'll never be able to have a relationship."

I took in words, not responding. My mind was going crazy. He wasn't giving me a bullshit excuse and he wasn't trying to win me back. He was just being honest.

"Drew, what do you want from me?"

From my peripheral vision, I saw his shoulders slump down. "I want to be friends again. Summer was so much fun hanging around with you and Justin. You're such a cool person and I want you in my life. Plus we're neighbors so it would make things way less awkward."

I pursed my lips as I contemplated the idea. On one hand, this could be good. I liked Drew as a friend. He was always there when I needed him to be. On the other, I knew this was risky. Last time we were friends, he was clearly looking for something more.

"I know you need time to think about it, so I'll go. Just know that I am truly sorry, and if we do become friends again, I'll make you coffee every morning before school and never call you a bitch again and I'll even stop seeing Taylor again."

I jolted upward at the last part. Andrew and Taylor never getting back together?! It sounded almost too good to be true.

He chuckled, as if he knew that would be my selling point. "Just think about it, okay?"

Distraught, I nodded at his back as he crossed over my yard to get to his. At the fence, he turned around and smiled before closing the door completely.

I stared at the fence for a good five minutes before Ryder barked at my feet.

"What did he want?"

I turned around to see Dylan waiting at the door. Ryder and I quickly ran inside before all the heat escaped.

"Was it another bullshit apology?"

I shook my head, still confused. "No. The opposite, actually."

"Huh," Dylan said as he crossed his arms. "Okay, now tell me why my little Pookie skipped school today."

I groaned, putting the now empty mug into the sink. "This little Pookie stayed up all night because her boyfriend ran away from his house to here."

Dylan's brows raised to his hairline in amusement. "Dean's here?"

"Yup."

"And Drew just had to see you now?"

I shrugged, not liking the mischievous look in his eyes. "Hey. Jasmine's the one who likes to stir up drama, not you."

He threw up his hands in surrender. "I'm not going to tell him."

"Oh, I'm gonna tell him. I have nothing to hide," I said nonchalantly. It was true. I wasn't planning on hiding this from him. Maybe I'd ease him into it first. "Speaking of, where is Jaz? I miss her. I feel like I haven't seen her days."

"You just saw her at school, drama queen," Dylan huffed as he threw an arm around my shoulder. "I wanted some alone time with my BFF. Is that a crime, now?"

"Okay... what do you want to do?"

I shouldn't have asked, based on his mischievous smile.

~~~

D e a n

I woke up in a familiar bedroom. I couldn't quite place it, but I knew I'd been in it before.

I rolled my body over and the scent hit me immediately. Vanilla.

Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and attempted to ignore the pain in my chest. All of last night suddenly came rushing back to me. At first, dread won as the dominant emotion. I was sure Arabella's parents hated me. I'm so stupid. Why did I come over?

But then I smiled like an idiot. I remembered how she took care of me, how she made sure I was okay even though I was bothering the shit out of her. How she smiled when I told her she'd be a good mother.

God, she was the most radiant thing I've ever seen.

My movements were stiff as I managed to get out of bed. My right hand covered the spot where I got shot as if it would help ease the pain. I looked like I was saying the fucking pledge of allegiance.

Peeking my head out of the hallway, I let out a breath of relief. It was clear. I was also extra grateful that her room was right across the one I was in. It decreased the chance of an awkward run in with her parents.

God, her parents! They must've hated me now. Not only did I fucking sneak in during the middle of the night, but on drugs too. They probably thought I was a reckless druggie that wanted to ravish their previous daughter.

Fuck. I couldn't see them.

I pushed her bedroom door open and was immediately greeted with the sound of grunting.

Neither seemed to have noticed my presence. I decided to lean against the doorway, arms crossed over my chest.

Dylan's body kept pumping up and down, sweat covering his bare chest. Arabella was giggling, trying to hold on to him.

God, it was the best fucking sound in the world.

"Ninety-nine... one hundred," Dylan grunted.

Yes, he was doing push-ups with her on his back.

She laughed, pinching the back of his neck. "You idiot. Who are you trying to impress?"

At the words, Dylan came undone. His arms collapsed under him with his face meeting flat on the carpet. He groaned, then groaned again when her weight pushed down on his face.

She rolled her eyes as she scrambled off of his limp body. "I do not weigh that much, you dick."

"Yes, you do."

"Well you couldn't even do fifty push-ups, so maybe you're weak."

Dylan rolled over so he was on his back, looking up at her. "Push-ups are hard as is. I can't do them with an eighteen-year-old girl on my back."

She snickered. "I can't believe they made you captain."

His eyes glinted and before she knew it, he pinned her down. His lips dramatically puckered as he lowered his head.

"No, no!" she squealed, wiggling under him. "Dyl, you're so gross! Get your STD lips away from me."

"No," he said before reattempting to kiss her.

I should've interfered, right?

But I couldn't. Her laugh was the best sound in the world. I wanted to bottle it up and listen to it forever. She looked happy. Happier than she has been these past few days. How could I take that away? Plus, it was Dylan. He was torturing her by attempting to kiss her. That clearly showed how much she didn't want it.

"Dean, Dean, Dean," she gasped, but she wasn't looking at me. "Dylan, I have a boyfriend."

"Who, the cripple? What's he gonna do?"

Her eyes widened, but so did her smile. "You're such a prick. You know, you should get shot next. We'd all have matching scars."

Leave her to change the subject like that.

I decided to clear my throat. Both sheepishly turned their heads toward me. Dylan, instead of looking embarrassed like I expected, just looked smug. See? Another reason to know he wasn't into her. No bastard would look smug if they were caught making an intentional move on a taken girl.

"Alright, Woods. Leave her alone," I said, trying to hide my amusement.

She stuck her tongue out as Dylan rolled off of her. "Yeah, Dylan."

"Don't push it," he warned. Instead of getting up, he laid face up on the floor. She looked down at him, shrugged, then nudged his arm with her socked toe. "I need a nap from picking up your heavy ass."

"Oh my god," she groaned, kicking his side lightly. "It was your idea!"

Of course it was.

"We both know I'm not the best at ideas." He covered his eyes with his arms. "Let me sleep."

"Sleep on the bed, you heathen."

"Did you wash the sheets?"

She scrunched up her nose before kicking him again. "Boy, that was a week ago. You think I'd sleep on sex sheets all week?" She paused, then froze in horror. "Oh my God, how often do you wash your sheets?"

Dylan only laughed in response, making her gag.

She walked over to me in quick strides and grabbed my arm. "Save me from him, please."

"Gladly," I said, tugging her out of the bedroom.

"Be safe!" Dylan called as she shut the door.

I smirked. It would've been funny if we could actually have sex. Unfortunately for me, the doc said I needed some time before I could perform strenuous activities.

And what I wanted to do to Arabella would be more than strenuous.

"I need a toothbrush," I told her as she led me back into the guest room where I spent the night.

She whirled around, her ponytail nearly hitting me in the face. "You didn't even check the bathroom, did you?"

"Oh." Oops.

"Well, I forgot to put one out anyway so you're off the hook," she smiled cheekily before patting my arm. All I could do was chuckle and shake my head.

After cleaning up, I was met with Arabella sitting on the bed. She hadn't noticed me yet, so I took a moment to shamelessly gape. The sun from the window was hitting her at the perfect angle. She was absolutely glowing.

Her long legs were sticking out of her short shorts. Her top half was covered in a huge sweatshirt that almost swallowed her. Her blond locks were gathered into a messy ponytail that somehow made her look put together.

"That's my sweatshirt, isn't it?" I asked, making my presence known.

She looked down at what she was wearing, then softly laughing. "I didn't even realize."

"Right." I strode on over and sat next to her on the bed. She was facing forward, her brows drawn into the tiniest knit. "Is everything okay?"

She surprised me by kissing me.

I knew what she was doing (distracting me so she wouldn't have to talk about whatever was bothering her) but I felt selfish. I'd longed to kiss her like this since the moment my world went black.

Since I thought I was going to die.

Now that I was alive, it felt like a second chance. Why should I waste it on talking when we could do this.

My lips molded into hers as I feverishly kissed her back with matched hunger. My hand snaked to the back of her neck, angling her head even closer to mine. She let out a soft moan that sent a jolt of electricity through me. My other hand ran up and down her side. When she let out a minuscule shiver, I couldn't help but triumphantly smile.

She slowly straddled me, barely taking her lips off of me. Her fingers tugged at the hem of my shirt. I knew we couldn't go too far but my senses were muddled by the taste of her tongue. I broke apart just for a second and tossed the material over my head.

She grinned as I kissed her again. Her hands teasingly trailed from my naval upward. It's like she was trying to torture me by going slower than a turtle. She knew it too, based on her naughty smile.

Her hand distractedly skimmed the bandaid on my chest and I flinched without meaning to. I hated myself for ruining the moment. Horrified, she slowly pulled back to look at the white gauze covering right above my left pec.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

I shook my head and grabbed her wrist. "Hey, no. It's okay. It didn't even hurt. It was just instinct."

When she looked up at me, tears welled in her eyes. I cupped her chin and forced her to look at me and not the wound. I didn't want her to cry, but she needed to.

Arabella had this habit where she'd bottle everything in until she exploded. I couldn't help but feel she learned this habit from me. After all, before we were a thing, she was all emotions. I wish I didn't influence her like that.

She needed this release now. She had a lot going on, regardless of what she said. When Dylan told me she had nightmares about me, my heart shattered. It was more painful than the damn bullet wound. I knew I couldn't put it off any longer, so that's why I had visited her last night. I didn't want her to have a nightmare and not see me when she woke up. Plus there was the stuff about her grandpa and her parents never being here. Even Ben got to occupy some of her thoughts – which I hated, but what could I do?

"Come here," I said softly.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her face in the crook of my shoulder. She didn't full-on sob but I could feel the dampness on my skin.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I rubbed her back. "Stop. None of this, okay? You don't get to apologize. It's not okay but it's not your fault. None of this is okay."

And it wasn't. I had come to terms with it in the lonely hospital because someone decided to leave me to die of boredom. All I could think about how fucked up everything had become of a dumb mistake I made as a kid.

I almost fucking died.

I thought I did die. How messed up was that? I was only eighteen, barely graduating high school.

And the funniest part? I didn't care about my family or friends. The only person who flashed in my mind was the beautiful girl currently crying into my shoulder. All I could think about the dumb mistakes I made. The times I hurt her by pushing her away. I swore to my unconscious self that if I ever woke up, I'd never take her for granted ever again.

And I needed to tell her about that day.

But not now. Not when she had her own issues to deal with. One pain at a time.

"Bellz, your dad... oh." Dylan's gaze flickered to me, then her crying form. A protectiveness flashed in his posture. Fuck, he thought I made her cry.

She pulled away, no matter how badly I wanted to cuddle with her and protect her from the dangers of the world.

All the dangers of the world stem from you, my subconscious whispered. It had a point, but I was too selfish to acknowledge it.

She wiped her snot with the sleeve of her – my sweatshirt. The craziest thing was, I didn't even care. That's how whipped I was. God, I should be ashamed of myself. "What's up?" she asked him.

"Is everything okay?" He asked her. Not me.

Then again, I wasn't the one crying.

"Yeah," she sniffled, "sorry, I was just having my monthly breakdown. Happens a lot, huh?" Dylan and I shared looks. She didn't care or notice. Instead, she wiped her eyes and pretended like she wasn't just crying. "What about my dad?"

"Oh, he wanted you both to come down for breakfast."

I tensed. Nope. No way. I couldn't face Mr. Wilks, especially not when he carried my limp body up the stairs. God, how mortifying!

"Okay, give us a minute. I'll meet you down," she said sweetly. He nodded, giving me one last glance before clicking the door shut. Upon noticing my rigid posture, she rubbed my forearm. "I think you're overreacting. He won't be mad."

I wanted to argue but we both knew she'd win in the end. It was useless unless we actually went and interacted with the man.

But I really really didn't want to.

She tossed me my shirt, eyeing the wound again. "Maybe my mom should check that out."

"Babe, relax. I'm fine." I couldn't help but smile at her worry. It was classic Arabella; to worry about everyone except herself.

She scuttled back to her room to make it look like she wasn't simultaneously having a makeout and crying session. I attempted to make myself look as presentable as possible with my limited options. It's not like I had clothes here, so I was stuck wearing sweats and a ratty t-shirt.

Ugh.

We met in the hallway and I grabbed her hand for support. Funny how I could be a part of a gang, literally pummel people to death, and go to freaking prison, but I couldn't face my girlfriend's dad. It was pathetic.

"Oh, good! You're awake," Mrs. Wilks beamed as soon as we entered the light-filled kitchen. Outside, a thin sheet of snow was melting in the grass. The room was filled with different mouthwatering scents. "I wasn't sure what you wanted so I kind of made everything," she sheepishly admitted.

Arabella grabbed a piece of bacon from the island and bit off a huge piece. "Not true. She always makes big breakfasts."

Her mom playfully smacked her arm. "Don't talk with a mouthful."

I laughed. Now I knew where Bella got that from. She always got on us to swallow before speaking.

"How are you feeling now, Dean?" her mom asked, moving the plates to the dining room table. I decided to help out – totally not because I wanted to make a good impression. Arabella just rolled her eyes at me.

"Hurts like hell but I'm managing," I told her. My movements felt stiff and restricted. One wrong move and a jolt of pain went straight to my chest.

She smiled sympathetically. "I bet. The bullet just nearly missed. You got lucky."

Yeah, lucky.

I flashed her a tight-lipped smile. "Definitely."

We finished setting up the table. Ryder trotted in at the smell of bacon wafting in the air. Dylan and Justin followed, the former putting the latter in a chokehold. It was kind of sweet how close Dylan was to the Wilks. If Mr. Wilks wasn't insistent on him marrying Arabella, I think I could be real friends with him. Maybe.

Mr. Wilks still hadn't shown up by the time we all sat down to eat. I kept glancing at the empty chair at the head of the table. Hell, I was nervous. The last time I joined them for a meal resulted in me spilling wine and talking back to him.

I mean, he did tell me he approved, but still. That night was a mess.

"Justin, how's your girlfriend," Arabella innocently batted her eyes across the table. Seconds later, she yelped as her leg jerked under the table. "Asshole," she muttered under her breath as she glared at him.

"I haven't seen Erin in so long," Mrs. Wilks mused. "When are you bringing her over again?"

Justin caught on quickly. His ears turned red as he gaped at his sister. "You told her?!"

Arabella nonchalantly shrugged, "Had to. It was a very feminist issue for me." Almost all of us cocked our heads in confusion, excluding Dylan and Mrs. Wilks. They must've been in on the joke.

"Fine, then." Justin jutted his chin out defiantly. "Why was Drew talking to you this morning?"

I blinked. Drew? Drew Boyce? No, I must've heard him wrong.

But when I turned to look at Bella, she was glaring at the table.

I paled. Why was Drew coming around like he was welcome? Last I heard, he was getting rejected at fancy charity galas. She didn't forgive him... did she? I mean, he's a class A dick! He fucking called her a bitch and strung her along in his stupid mind games.

I didn't have time to ask because Mr. Wilks walked in at that moment. He was already dressed in a crisp navy suit, which seemed out of place compared to the rest of us. Was he heading into work? Didn't he come home like five hours ago?

Doesn't he work from home?

"Good morning," he said as he sat down at the head of the table. His eyes flickered to Dylan and I swear they lit up. "Dylan! When did you come around?" Then his eyes shifted to Justin. "And why aren't you at school? Why aren't any of you at school?"

No one answered him.

"Right," he snorted before helping himself to a big serving of eggs. "Screw education, am I right?"

"Oh, come on, Bill. We both know football players don't really need school," Dylan grinned, looking completely at ease. I was jealous. I wanted to be on a first-name basis with him too.

"Oh, Dylan. I used to be just like you. It's a shame I got injured and had to quit."

"Yeah, to become a lawyer," Bella snorted.

"And now we're rolling in the dough!" Justin added, smiling at both of his parents.

"You're despicable," she retorted, to which he kicked her under the table. She gasped and kicked him back.

And that's how the world's first soccer match without a ball started.

"Hey! Cut it out," Dylan barked at the both of them. I snickered. You'd think their parents would be the ones who broke them up. "Jesus, you're acting like children."

"We are children... oh my God, I'm eighteen. I'm going to gag," Arabella suddenly paled. "Ugh."

"Wait, so I'm the only minor at the table," Justin noted. "So I have the right to ask like a child."

He kicked her again.

"Dylan!" she whined, pouting at him. "Make him stop."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know... tie his legs together? Dump him in the pool? Drive to a secondary location and abandon him?"

Justin pursed his lips while giving her a pointed look. "You just want to kill me."

"I do," she calmly responded.

Man, they were so different than me and my siblings. It might've had to do with the age difference. Maybe it was because I was too much of a rebellious teen to spend time with them. Who knows?

We finished up breakfast. It was easily one of the best meals I had. I wanted to strangle Arabella for always skipping it and drinking coffee instead.

I knew I should've helped with the dishes but I had other problems to deal with. I turned to her and calmly rested my arms against the smooth wood. "So... Drew was here?"

Her smile dimmed as she focused on my arms. "Yeah, he–"

"Dean, can I meet you in my study for a sec?"

Damn it! Everyone was intent on interrupting, weren't they? First Dylan, now Mr. Wilks.

Dread filled me as I nodded. This was it, the bomb I was waiting to drop all night. He was going to yell at me for being so reckless. He was going to force me to break up with his daughter. Could he arrest me? Possibly. Weren't lawyers super corrupt? Even if he wasn't, he could easily murder me. It was his word against mine, which wouldn't mean much considering I'm dead.

Arabella squeezed my knee reassuringly as I got up and followed the man to my doom. I immediately regretted not kissing her one last time.

He was already sitting at his desk when I walked in. Jesus! How fast did the man walk?! I clicked the door behind me and awkwardly stood before he amusedly gestured to the chair in front of the table.

When I sat down, he clasped his hands together and leaned forward. "Right, so Dean..."

A nervous sweat dripped down the back of my neck. I wanted to close my eyes to avoid his intense stare but that would've looked stupid, so I forced myself to keep eye contact. Better to be brave in my last moments, right?

"Who shot you and how are we going to legally proceed with this?"

~

I apologize for the late updates! Finals are kicking my butt. Also, I have no other books after this one so I'm dragging out this one a little, but I swear I'll try harder.

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