Carvel

Honestly don't care about that (^) anymore but I said I wasn't changing any of my A/N and I'm not. I see my photos as A/N btw.

With everything going on this week, this is the only thing I'll get to update. A couple more days to spring break and hopefully, I'll get to update my other books during that time and more of this one.

Fingers crossed.

How're you guys doing?

**~**

"Do you want to go for a walk?" It isn't really a question, but I make it seem like Arthur has a choice.

I know what's coming and I'm not sticking around to watch.

I faintly hear my mother ask dad, "Where you been, Andrew?" I gulp. It's not that their fights get to the point where they begin to throw stuff or threaten each other, but they do get loud and presume to drag me in the middle of the chaos with their questions. I'm just glad I have Arthur as scapegoat for this one.

Arthur doesn't answer me. I don't think he gets it. If he had, I'm sure he would've jumped at the offer as quick as possible. "I don't think that's a good idea... with your ankl-"

"Forget that!" I hiss but switch my tone when his eyebrows raise. "I-I mean it's fine. It doesn't even hurt anymore." I lie. I can still feel the sharp jolt of pain whenever I take a step. My father had said he'd get me the crutches. Apparently he had a pair in the garage for 'emergencies', but I know they're for me since I've always been a little clumsy but not clumsy enough to break something. At least not on my body that is.

"Okay." He drags the word out a little, eyeing me. I can tell he doesn't buy it, but we need to get out of here.

In the living room, my father seemingly found his courage to reply to my mother. "Around..." My eyes widen in horror and my palm meets my forehead, hitting it repeatedly. Stupidstupidstupid.

Don't get me wrong, I respect my father greatly, but that has to be one of the most foolish things I've ever heard him say in my life. And he's said some outrageous stuff. Even I know you don't answer a question like that with the word 'around', especially when you're married to a crazy person.

I spring up off the barstool, cringing when I put too much pressure on my ankle. I set my plate in the sink and go back to Arthur who's standing, staring at me with confusion and concern. He eyes my feet. He has no idea we're standing in the middle of a thunderstorm--a raging tempest--and I have to guide us out.

"Are you sure..." He trails off worriedly.

Instead of answering, I grab his wrist, pulling him out of the kitchen. I almost make it to the front door when...

"Where are you two going?" That was my dad. The current balloon head in the house.

"Don't question them." My mother snaps at him then turns to us with a smile, and says, "You two have fun."

I thank God a thousand times. Never in my life has this happened. They always include me in their domestic war, and I have a strong feeling it's because Arthur's here. I'll have to thank him for that later.

"Thanks, Mom. Later!" I sound high-pitched and squeaky and I have to I clear my throat after.

I don't drop Arthur's hand until we're through the door and as soon as we're out, the shouting starts--most of it being my mother--and mutes as the door click shut after us.

I let out a sigh and slump against it. "Thank God."

Arthur chuckles. "So that was your problem," He muses.

I turn to give him a blank stare, shaking my head at his oblivious self.

He ignores my look and takes a step closer to me. "So since we're going for a walk. How about Carvel?" He smiles at me. He still manages to make me feel small even though he's just inches taller than me.

Suddenly I feel shy. At the same time, I spot the, not so small, dark red spot below his jawline. My face heats up as it had the first time I saw it; in my room when I'd come out of my bathroom and he was laying like a dead person on my bed. At the moment I'd felt a wave of embarrassment and a weird sense of pride knowing I'd done that. It isn't hard to miss because of his fair skin, but I'm glad my parents were too busy to notice. That would've sucked.

"Okay." I squeaked. I force a smile to play off the sudden nervousness, but my eyes drop to my feet. I decided to wear some sandals after my white converse wouldn't cut it.

Suddenly he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me into him almost possessively, and plants a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek. "You're adorable."

Giggling, I push his face away and he grips my waist tighter. If my shorts weren't tight he'd have it balled in his fist from how tight he's holding me.

"A little tight there, Arthur?" I tease, my hand resting on his chest.

"You bet." He winks at me, making me blush, then loosens his grip.

Walking down the street in the Bronx with Arthur Kingsley, feels better and more real than it should. The sun is out, warming me from head to toe, and seeing as it's close to the beginning of fall and we won't have it in the next two months, I'm loving it.

I watch people walking their dogs, kids playing in the park we're passing and running down the sidewalks, couples walking hand-in-hand, along with parents sitting in groups--enjoying each other's company. All while Arthur holds me to his body, almost carrying me down the sidewalk that my injured leg hardly touches the ground. My right hand grips the back of his shirt though it's obvious he's not going to let me go anytime soon.

With him here, making me feel wanted, it's like everything's more noticeable. Or maybe I'm just paranoid that people are watching us, but everything that I didn't care to look at or pay attention to in the past, is practically being shoved in my face now.

The orange and brown leaves blowing across the pavement and the sounding crunches as we walk over them; birds chirping, in trees and on the ground--searching for food; the sounds of planes landing and taking off at the airport nearby... Everything is just better. It's weird.

He makes me see things and it's probably because I've been alone in my head for so long. I know I'm getting too attached but I can't help it. But I won't ask for anything more because this is as far as it goes. Arthur Kingsley doesn't do relationships. I've heard him say it himself and that's fine because I don't expect him to with me. Having fun doesn't hurt anyone. All the time.

I snap out of my daze when two girls start walking backward in front of us. I frown when I see one of the girls holding up her phone--blocking her face--but it's obvious what she's doing. Is she recording us? The other girl looks at us like she's trying not to laugh. Both of them are dark skin and are basically the same height, but the girl with the phone has dark orange, curly hair, while the other had jet-black, straight hair. They look familiar.

"Y'all dating?" the girl holding up the phone asks.

I'm about to say no but Arthur beats me to it.

"Not yet." He smirks.

I turn my gaze to him, forcing myself not to blush as they awed. I shake my head, and I know he can tell because he ends up grinning. He's crazy.

"That's cute," phone girl says. Then she adds, "Arthur, right?"

He nods. "Yeah."

I turn my attention back to them and away from the red spot on Arthur's neck I didn't realize I'd been staring at. "You know each other?" I ask, but they're already staring at me.

"Not really," Arthur says, his eyes moving to me. "But we all go to the same school."

My lips part and I nod as I remember. That's where they're from.

"And Grace?" she points at me. I nod again, my eyes going to the other girl who's been quiet the whole time. She smiles and I return it. "You dated that football player that treated you sh-"

"Okay!" her friend interrupts with an awkward laugh. She places a hand on orange hair's mouth and pulls her friend back, who struggles against her. There's no need though because I already knew what she was about to say.

I smile again even though my stomach's turning. "I did."

"Don't listen to her. She talks... yeah," the once quiet girl says, still pulling her friend back aggressively with her hand covering her mouth. "Nice top," she says with a smile, and when they're a good distance away, she let the girl go, ignoring her complaints, as she grips her hand. Then they step onto the side of the road and wait until it's clear before straight hair drags curly hair behind her to the other side.

"Well, she's not wrong," I say, staring after them, but my mind is wandering.

"And that asshole isn't in your league," Arthur says in my ear, like he's trying to speak to the bad thoughts he knows are conjuring.

I try my hardest, but I can't stop my smile. Especially when his lips are brushing against my ear teasingly. I lean away with a laugh when he doesn't stop.

The subject change is natural after that and leads us to things like the homework we have that we're slacking off and not doing. Then we both laugh when he says we're gonna fail our classes. It's hilarious because I've never failed anything in my life and I don't plan to.

Eventually, the time comes for us to cross the road. Carvel sitting right on the other side.

"You okay?" He must see the horror on my face.

My head shakes. I'm anxious and he knows. "No, they're going to kill me," I turn to Arthur who's staring at me in amusement. "They're going think I'm going too slow and hit me." I gulp. I know it's ridiculous, but there are people who have zero patience and tolerance for the littlest things. Especially in New York. I wouldn't be surprised if I become the victim of a hit and run.

"Okay, then." And what he does next is impeccable--despicable.

He picks me up.

Before I can protest, his arm hooks behind my knees and the other around my back. An appalled sound passes my lips and I throw my arms around his shoulders, clutching him tightly. The people on the sidewalk stare at us and, not even a second later, some are taking pictures. I can almost see the captions, 'How can he even carry her? She so big', 'Wow he's pretty strong if he can hold her up without falling through the sidewalk', 'Look everyone! The new hulk!'

"Arthur put me down, people are staring!" I whisper-shout at him.

He turns his head to me, his face inches from mine. "Grace. I don't give a fuck."

"You don't need to curse to make a point." I try to scowl him, but I'm a flustered mess.

"You know you love it." I try not to look at him, but his smirking face is a brand in my memory, so it doesn't make sense to get away from it.

He starts crossing the road then, with my face against his shoulder. He's so bold and I'm so... not. I can't ignore the continuous honking of cars, and the whistles that follow tell me it isn't out of irritation. I feel Arthur shaking with silent laughter and it's the only thing keeping me from panicking full-on. So all I do is breathe him in deeply and keep his shirt balled in my hand for support.

He finally gets to the other side of the road and sets me on my feet again on the sidewalk. "Now that wasn't so bad was it." I glare at his large smile. At school is one thing, but on the road is completely different. Both of them are just as embarrassing but this is worse.

With one last dirty, but grateful, glance his way, I spin on my good heel and open the glass door of the ice cream shop. Arthur holds the door open above my head, allowing me to limp into the store first. As soon as I pass the threshold there's a sharp sting to my butt. Immediately, my hand flew to it and I gasp in shock, turning to stare at Arthur with wide eyes.

"Seriously!" I hiss at him only for him to smirk in return. "Can you not?" Only this guy can frustrate and get me worked up at the same time.

"You weren't saying that this morning." He has that mischievous smirk thing going on, and I swear, his expression is gonna get stuck that way.

Gaping, I say, "Th-That's not the same thing." My cheeks heat up when I think back to this morning.

"I'm sure it's not." He retorts sarcastically with a grin, his hand still holding onto the door with his upper body inside the shop, his face tilting toward me. He steps in, walking me back a little, then places his hands on my hips, to nudge me. He looks over my shoulder and his lips pull up slightly. Curious, I turn to see, but his hand comes up to my face, focusing my gaze back on him. "Why don't you go sit and I'll get the orders?" I nod and tell him what I want.

I walk to the back of the shop and sit at the table in the corner next to the window. I stare out at the street busy with traffic, and people. Kids enjoying their weekend of freedom, mom's with their kids, others with groceries, and a very good looking man in dark slacks, a button-down under a dark blazer and dress shoes.... Wowza. He has a phone pressing to his ear and is grabbing all female attention along with some males. Even I couldn't look away. He is gorgeo-

"Are you checking that guy out?" I jump when Arthur's deep voice whispers in my ear. His face is close to mine as he peers out the large window like I'd been doing.

I shrug, holding back a smile. "Can you blame me?" I say, still looking at the guy across the road, even craning my head when he disappears behind a group of people. "He's so fine." My eyes move to his butt and I let out a low whistle before I can stop myself.

If only I wasn't a minor.

Arthur's voice snaps me out of it. "Cool, I guess you don't want your ice cream then." That steals my attention.

My head whips back to him with a loud crack. That hurt. It felt like something just tore in my neck but I don't dwell on it.

"What?"

"You heard me." He says sassily.

"I was kidding." Lies.

"Sure, you were." The humorous glint in his eyes tells me he isn't serious.

"Can I have my ice cream please?" I ask softly, my eyes pleading. My neck is really starting to hurt.

"Fine." He huffs, handing me the medium-size cup of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream with sprinkles. "Since you're being cute and all," he says with mock disappointment.

"Thank you." I grin and shove a spoonful of goodness in my mouth. I hum, moving my head in a happy bob. But when it shifts too much to the right, a sharp, agonizing pain shoots in my neck. My eyes snap shut and I freeze, my breath hitching. God, why me? Isn't a broken ankle enough!

"Your neck now?"

I want to nod but I can't. My forehead crease in pain and I inhale sharply, letting it out slowly, before answering him, "Yeah." I say breathlessly.

"Turn." I open my eyes, meeting his expectant gaze. He nodded once. "It's crooked. Y'know, whiplash. I know how to get rid of it. Turn your back to me... and you might want to put your ice cream on the table."

I eye him suspiciously for a moment before saying, "Okay." My shoulders are tense as I sit up and try to turn without shifting my head. I sit with my back to him like he instructed, then set my ice cream down on the table, staring outside the big glass window and wondering what exactly he's going to do.

"Okay," He breaths, and I feel his breath hit the back of my neck. I exhale shakily. "I have to turn your head all the way both sides, okay?"

My heart races at the thought and I start breathing heavily.

"Hey. You have to do this because this can go on for at least a couple of days. You don't want that?" I don't want that. He read my mind. "Okay. Now close your eyes."

I do and try to keep myself calm when his hands rest on my head; one on top and the other under my chin. He slowly turns my head to the left until he can't go any farther. It hurts like heck but it's bearable. But that doesn't stop my nails from sinking into his thigh. He ignores it and turns my head back straight. I let out a heavy breath.

"Sorry about this." Then without any other warning, he turns my head to the right without hesitancy. A loud pop sounds and I swear I almost wet my pants. I cry out so loud, that I'm sure people passing outside hear me.

My breathing comes out heavy as I blink back the blurriness in my eyes. That was like death in a second.

Arms wrap around my stomach from behind. "Sorry." His lips press against my temple gently, and the way he rocks me makes it hard to be mad at him.

I fan my face with my hand, trying to get the tears to disappear faster. "I'm fine," I say, my voice hoarse. I turn my head slightly and besides the aching, it's a lot better than before. "Thanks."

He pulls back and asks, "You're okay, right?"

"Mhmm. Better." I turn to him, moving my chair closer to rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. I hear someone asking if everything is okay and Arthur calls back, telling them we're fine.

His fingers brush my cheeks lightly. "Sorry." He whispers again, then his hand is in my hair. Oohh, I think as his fingers move expertly against my scalp, how can I ever stay mad at him?

"Do you still want your ice cream?" He asks softly.

He obviously doesn't know me well enough yet, though.

"Mhmm." I hold my hand out and seconds later the cold cup touches my hand.

We talk about anything and everything after that with my eyes still close and both of us eating our frozen snack. He tells me about his sister that supposedly came home yesterday and then I tell him about all of my clumsiest tumbles in life.

I have to say though, he's really good at the 'getting-to-know-each-other' thing. He knows how to hold a conversation, he listens, and he constantly makes those little noises so I know he's still with me when he gets too quiet. It's a side of him I've never even glimpsed. A side I like.

We sit there for a while before I hear the voice. His voice.

"Grace?"

And I freeze.

**~**

So this chapter was a lot longer. You're welcome *bows* 😘😘😘😘 Love you