32. Replacing Memories

"How do you make cooking look so...majestic?" Tyler asked as I guided his hands over the frittata, putting my hands over his to help him fold it.

"Years and years of practice," I confessed. "And there. We're done." I wiped my hands off and Tyler followed suit. The morning had started off lazy, and as the minutes inched higher and higher, no one seemed willing to get the day started. My fathers had yet to come downstairs, Azalea was still holed up in her room, and even the two younger ones who usually harbored an abundance of energy seemed to still be asleep. It was weird to be in such a silent house, but it was a welcome weirdness. It gave me a better opportunity to introduce the boy I was madly in love with to another side of me–my Italian side and all it entailed.

"Say it again," Tyler asked as if he were a kid.

"Ty–"

"Please? I like the way you say it."

Knowing that I couldn't say no to him I sighed as a playful grin tugged at the edge of my lips and slung my arms around his shoulders, causing our bare chests to press against one another. "It's called a frittata. There, are you happy?"

Tyler's eyes rolled back as he slightly bent his knees, leaning into me. "I could listen to you say that word for like a week straight without getting bored," he gushed with a groan. "It's heaven to my ears."

I chuckled. "Don't make it weird."

"I'm not, I'm just telling the truth. Say something else."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, anything."

"Babe, you know I can't just say stuff on the spot. You gotta give me a moment to think."

"I'll wait," he said as he started gently running his thumbs along my hips.

After a few moments, a phrase finally popped into my head. "Okay. Here's one: La famiglia e la patria del cuore. It's an Italian proverb that means 'family is where the heart is'. It's kind of the saying that we have in this family. Not only because we're a literal mixing pot of different ethnicities and races, but also because it's a reminder that in hard times, we can choose who we consider our family. Blood isn't concrete, therefore neither is family, you know?"

He nodded. "That's beautiful, Addi. I might steal that from you. Now, say something else."

"Tyler–"

"This is the last one, promise."

"Fine," I relented before I searched my brain for something fun and meaningful to say. "Sei la coso più bella che mi sia mai capitata. Mi sono perso nei tuoi occhi. Farei qualsiasi cosa per te. Ti amo, il mio re. (You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I've lost myself in your eyes. I would do anything for you. I love you, my king)." To seal it off, I gently pressed my lips to his. His fingertips felt like feathers against my hips and his lips tasted like pure heaven and honey.

"What did that mean?" He softly asked, looking down at me since I was a bit shorter than him.

I bit my bottom lip and shook my head, breaking our gaze. Even though I'd told him countless times how much I felt for him, that confession that I'd made in my native tongue felt...different. Even those words couldn't accurately capture how I felt about him, no language or symbols could. So, I simply crossed my fingers and hoped that my actions could convey my love in a way that syllables and consonants couldn't.

He chuckled as he let me go. "To think, I found the man of my dreams and I can't even understand what he's saying half of the time."

My heart fluttered at his words as I followed him over to the other frittatas that still needed to be folded. "Wait, Ty, I'm the man of your dreams, or...?" I said in a teasing tone as I looked around as if looking for someone else. Although I was teasing him, my heart was beating out of my chest. My ears ached to hear him say it again.

He scoffed. "Don't get too full of yourself, that's just how the saying goes–"

"No, no, I think I heard you say that I'm the man of your dreams. I'm pretty sure those words left your lips less than ten seconds ago."

He smiled. "Maybe they did."

"Well then maybe," I said as I wrapped my arms around him again, "you should say it again."

"Okay." He took my face in his hands. "Addison Micahel, you are the man of my dreams."

A warm feeling festered in my chest as I pushed my lips to his. The kiss was tame at first, but it quickly turned into a heated mess of clashing teeth and tongues. My body felt like it was engulfed in flames that only Tyler could douse, yet the clothes between us kept him from satiating me.

I needed to stop.

I abruptly pulled away, my breath coming out heavy and erratic. "I'm sorry," I softly said between heavy breaths. "I...shouldn't have done that."

"You shouldn't have done that?" Tyler echoed, a confused tone in his voice.

I nodded. "Yeah, I uh...I get carried away sometimes and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, especially since we're in the open, and–"

I was interrupted by him pressing a soft kiss into my lips. "Well, if it's worth anything, I'm glad you did it," Tyler muttered into my lips so low and hypnotizing that my knees turned into jelly and I had to keep myself from falling into his arms.

Words couldn't fall into place in my mind.

I was needlessly aroused and helplessly horny at that moment.

And there was nothing I could do except hope that I didn't pop a boner.

I cleared my throat. "Oh, okay."

Obviously enjoying the flustered state he'd put me in, Tyler's lips tugged up into a grin before he turned back to the food we were making. "Come on, I still need your help with these if you want them to be edible."

I repeated the process that I'd followed before and helped Tyler through the process of making the breakfast dish, sneaking kisses on his shoulder blades and cheeks as I did so, until we were done. "You did good. I'm proud of you," I said before I sucked some of the chocolate drizzle that had missed the frittata off of my thumb though it still lingered on my other fingers.

"What can I say? I had an amazing teacher," he said as he reached over and swiped this thumb across my cheek, revealing some chocolate that had escaped my mouth before he popped it into his mouth.

I couldn't tell if he knew the effect he was having on me and was just trying to make me lose control, or if he genuinely didn't know how much power he held over me. I didn't know which one was worse.

Luckily, at that moment, my dads walked in, their eyes tired and their hair messy. "Morning, Papa. Morning, Padre." I took a step away from Tyler to keep them from jumping to any conclusions.

"Good morning, son. Tyler," Papa acknowledged before a yawn was pulled from his lips.

Padre wandered over to the stove before he turned back to us, raising an eyebrow as a grin tugged at his lips. "Did you two do this?"

I nodded as I wiped my hands on my pants and leaned my back against the counter. "I decided to teach him a little bit."

Papa looked between us before his gaze fell onto the meal we made. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he side-eyed my other dad. "It smells great. I bet it tastes even greater. It seems like you're picking up pretty well, Tyler."

"Thank you," Tyler softly said, his shy exterior returning. He was so adorable.

"Well, Tyler, you're welcome to stay as long as you'd like, but fair warning, we're leaving for Long Island at about four-thirty-fiveish so we can take the kids out to eat before we explore. We're gonna spend the weekend there and blah, blah, blah. Obviously, if we would've known you were coming beforehand, we would've accommodated for you."

Tyler shook his head. "I completely understand. I'll be out by three."

Padre frowned. "Sorry. I feel kind of awkward because I feel like we're kicking you out."

Tyler laughed, the deep melody filling the air. "No, it's fine. Really."

"Actually," I piped up, "I told Tyler that I would go have dinner with him and his dad tonight since he wasn't at the game last night."

"Addi, no, it's fine. You can spend time with your family. You don't have to–"

"Babe, it's fine. I want to." I gently put my hand on top of his on the counter before I lowered my voice so that only he could hear me. "It's important to you, right?" He slowly nodded, but he was hesitant. I could basically see his thoughts write themselves across his face: I don't want him to agree just to please me. He cared so much, it was insane. I grinned. "Then it's important to me."

He gave my hand a quick squeeze. "Alright."

I could practically hear the fan-girl-ish screams that were bouncing around my fathers' heads. Papa bit his bottom lip to keep his grin at bay. "Alright, well, uh, we'll try this. Noah, baby, will you come with me onto the balcony so we can...uh, talk?"

It didn't take a genius to figure out that they were just trying to give us some alone time.

"Yeah," Padre said, trying too hard to sound casual. They quickly fixed their plates before Papa turned back to us. "We'll be outside if you need us. Thanks again for the breakfast you two, great job."

"Thanks," I said before we watched them go. I turned to Tyler. "Come on."

I laced my fingers with his before I went to the stove and started making my plate and he followed my actions. Within moments, we were back where we always ended up: my room.

He settled back into my bed with his back against the headboard while I rested my head on his lap and looked up at him. "Try it."

He took his fork, gathered some of the dish, and slowly led it into his mouth. The sound he made when the food hit his taste buds caused something to buzz within me. The throaty groan and the way he closed his eyes felt like a challenge, like his body was daring me to rival that sound.

It was a dare I was beyond willing to accept.

"That good, huh?"

"Oh yeah. Here, try some." He took some more off of his plate and directed it down to my mouth. I took a bite and I had to admit that it was one of the better dishes I'd ever made. I decided to attribute it to the fact that it was made with literal love.

I grinned up at him. "You did a great job, il mio re."

"Learned from the best, Romeo."

"I like it when you call me that," I confessed as I started eating from my own plate. "I like it a lot."

"I like it when you call me your king," he confessed as he gently stroked my jaw.

We quickly fell into a comfortable silence, alternating between eating and staring into each other's eyes like love struck idiots. Minutes quickly turned into hours and we transitioned from eating to making out to watching TV to making out again until we were caught in another bout of stillness: just laying and looking at one another. I'd fallen into a pattern of gently caressing his cheek while he laid belly down on my bed with his head facing me and his eyes locked with mine. "We should start getting ready soon," he softly said, though there was no urgency in his voice nor did he make an attempt to get up. I merely hummed in response though I didn't make an attempt to move.

He grinned. "Addi, I'm serious. We only have an hour and a half or so, not to mention the time it takes to get to the subways then on the subways then off."

"Or we could take our time and I could take you up on your offer from a few days ago and shower with you. You know, save the earth and stuff," I said, reusing his words from the day we'd spent alone together against him.

He chucked and shook his head. "As much as I'd love that, I want to leave on good terms with your parents, and that doesn't seem like the best way of going about it. Besides, we already showered before we made breakfast, remember?"

I rolled my eyes. "You're no fun."

"Now you know how I always feel, you prude," he joked in a light tone before he fully sat up, causing my hand to drop to my side. "Do you have any clothes that I can wear?"

I motioned to my closet. "Help yourself. Take anything you want."

He walked out of my line of sight while I simply laid there, not wanting to move a muscle and simply bask in his glory.

"Romeo, what's this?" He asked after a few moments.

"I don't know, you have to bring it over here so I can see."

I could practically feel him roll his eyes at my laziness, but nonetheless, he walked over so I could see the piece of paper with various black marks that he held between his fingers. I instantly shot up and reached for it, but he held it out of my reach. "You weren't supposed to see that–"

"But Addi, it's–"

"Awful. It's awful. Come on, Ty, give it back." Pink tint crept up my face and up my neck as I reached for the picture of him that I'd drawn in my depressed stupor. Instead of tucking it away as I should've, I'd made the mistake of carelessly throwing it on my desk that Tyler had passed by on his way to my closet. He probably thought I was weird, but it wasn't my fault that seeing him made me feel better, whether we were face to face or I was looking at his picture.

"No, babe. It's definitely not awful it's...I don't even know, some word that means better than perfect. Why didn't you tell me you could draw?" He asked. I let my arms fall down to my side and I broke eye contact.

"I can't. It's just something I picked up from my Papa, that's all."

Tyler's scoff caused my eyes to meet his once more. "Addi, that's a lie. You're amazing and you ought to know it." He looked back at the picture in his hands. "I want you to draw more. I mean, not right now, but just in general. Could you do that for me?"

"Are you being serious? You actually like it?"

He nodded. "Of course, Addi, I wouldn't lie to you."

"Alright then. If that's what you want, I'll draw some more for you."

He grinned before he kissed me. "So, uh, could I keep this? I really love it and I want something to remember you by."

"Of course you can keep it."

A child-like grin spread across his face. "Thanks." he gently set the paper back on my desk before he made his way back to my closet, mumbling about needing a picture frame under his breath.

"Oh, if you need one, I have one around here that'll probably fit," I offered as I stopped myself from following him to my closet so I could throw on my own change of clothes as well. Before he could respond, I was already on the other side of my room sifting through the drawer of old picture frames I had from when I cleared every trace of Kyra from it. I wanted to forget her, and next to filing my brain down to bloody nubs, erasing all of our fond memories together was the best way to attempt to push her out of my life.

Besides, the absence of the constant reminders of our happy times together made it easier for me to hate her.

After looking through the frames I had, I realized that none of them fit. I was on my way to look somewhere else when something caught my eye. There in the smack middle of my various pictures with loved ones and family was the one of Kyra and I kissing in Times Square. In all of my efforts to erase her, I'd missed the biggest thorn in my side, the biggest reminder of the happiness that once thrived between us. That one picture caused so many emotions to tear through me, each one fighting for dominance.

I swallowed as I took the picture frame in my hand. Sighing, I turned it over in my hands, undid the latches, and freed the picture from its frame. My fingertips tingled as I held the light glossy paper. It was some type of twisted cosmic irony that out of all of the picture frames I had, this one seemed to be the one that would fit the picture.

I was replacing her with him all over again.

My heart squeezed as her face from almost a month ago after she'd caught us flashed through my mind. Her venomous words burned through my ears and the weight of the unparalleled depression I'd mercilessly been dragged through tugged at my ankles, reminding me that it could come back at any moment without any rhyme or reason.

All I wanted to do was tear the picture into a million pieces, but something stopped me as I held it over the trash can. My fingers neglacted my brain's commands to let go, like a stubborn child ignoring their parents, and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't. She still had so much power over me without even being there.

I hurriedly shoved the picture into a drawer before I approached Tyler, offering him the frame. "Thanks, man," he said as he slid one of my NYU sweatshirts over his toned body. It was a bit small for him, but if he noticed, he didn't seem to mind. Instead of following Tyler's lead and throwing on a comfortable sweatshirt and pants and calling it good, I grabbed one of my thick sweaters and paired it with a pair of jeans and ankle-high boots to protect my ankles against the nippy fall air. It wasn't a lot, but I hoped it would be enough to make a good impression on Mr. Barnett.

I was starting to feel a bit of the anxiety Tyler had felt last night, like a spider slowly stalking and surrounding its prey. I just really wanted him to like me, and like me for his son. Especially because Tyler had told him about me before I met Mr. Barnett for the first time. Had he told his dad about what I'd put him through? Would he instantly hate me no matter how many times I apologized and showed that I'd changed?

The thoughts slowly chewed away at me like parasites, sucking up my life source and leaving me a hollowed form full of anxiety and what-ifs.

"Hey, babe?" I said as I approached Tyler who was fiddling with the frame in preparation to put the picture in.

"Yeah?" His eyes didn't leave the task at hand, and his tongue snuck out of the corner of his mouth as his eyebrows furrowed. He was struggling with the little latches which created a hilarious juxtaposition: a big strong man being bested by tiny metal latches.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Taking me back." As soon as those words slid past my lips, his eyes met mine. "I know you're probably tired of hearing it but, really, thank you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and the fact that I screwed it up and you still gave me another chance...it's invaluable. So thank you, il mio re." I gently ran my thumb over his chin as he looked up at me with his Bambi eyes.

In response, he merely kissed my palm like he usually did, a grin tugging at the edge of his lips before he continued messing with the frame. While he did that, I walked over to my mirror and started messing with my hair. As I looked at myself, I had to resist the urge to ask Azalea to put some more concealer under my eyes since traces of my insomnia still lingered under my eyes, in addition to maybe asking her to do my eyebrows the way she'd always wanted, but I ultimately decided against it. Even if it were those two small things, I didn't want to have the official boyfriend meeting under a facade made of powder and pomade.

"Alright, Romeo, I think you look good," Tyler lightly teased as he approached me from behind and wrapped his arms around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder and we looked at ourselves in the mirror. "We look good together, don't we?"

I chuckled. "I'd like to think so."

He hummed in agreement before he kissed my cheek. "Okay, turn around. Let me fix your hair."

I frowned. "But I've already fixed my hair."

"Alright, then let me touch up your hair." An amused grin tugged at the edge of his lips as I pouted but did what he said nonetheless. He gently ran his fingers through my hair, his movements soft and deliberate. My eyes fluttered closed as some of the tension that had been building up in my body slowly started slipping away like water through the cracks of my hands.

"Here," he announced before placing a gentle kiss on my lips. "I think that looks a bit better, don't you?"

I looked at myself and honestly, I saw no difference. But the satisfied look on Ty's face kept me from saying what I thought out loud. "Perfect," I agreed before I pulled my phone off of its charger, grabbed my keys and wallet, and grabbed my coat to shield me from the Big Apple's dropping temperature. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah, but do you have something for me to carry this in so it doesn't break?" He asked, motioning to the picture. I nodded before I grabbed a simple drawstring backpack. Tyler wrapped the picture in his clothes from the night before then carefully slid it over his shoulders. "Ready."

I took his hand into mine before I made a move to open the door, but as soon as I opened the door, my fathers were standing there, Padre's hand frozen mid-knock. "Oh, hi boys, we were just about to let you know that we were heading out in a bit."

Papa adjusted his grip on the suitcase he was lugging behind him. "Yeah, we have a drive ahead of us and it's going to take us a while to get out of here." He checked his watch and cursed in Italian. "The traffic's pretty heavy, but we'll make it by sundown."

"Addi, I don't want you riding the subway by yourself at night. After you're done with dinner, call an Uber and stay on the phone with either Papa or myself until you're in the house again, okay?"

I nodded.

"Oh, Mr. Noah, my father wouldn't mind letting Addi stay over if it gets too late. Then you won't have to worry about any of that."

Padre nodded. "Alright, as long as it's alright with Mr. Barnett, then we're okay with it. Just let us know what you're doing."

"Okay."

"You boys did an excellent job with breakfast. We just might have to bring you over more often to help us cook, Tyler," Papa said with a warm grin.

"Thank you, sir."

"Alright, you two. Be safe and text me when you get there. Ooh, do you have your phone?" Papa asked.

"Yes."

"How about your wallet?"

"Yes, dad."

"What about your keys? You always forget those and–"

"Yes, dad, I have my keys," I said with a chuckle.

"Alright, Madison, let them go."

"Fine," Papa said before they both stepped out of the way. "It was lovely having you over, Tyler."

"Thank you for having me and allowing me to stay."

My fathers nodded before I led Tyler down the hall, momentarily stopping to knock on Azalea's door. After a few seconds, it cracked open. Her curly hair was slicked up into a ponytail and her baby hairs danced along her hairline in sleek patterns. She was wearing an oversized sweatshirt with a denim jacket over it and leggings with a pair of Doc Martens. "We're heading out."

"Okay," she said as she gave me a hug. "Be careful."

I broke my grip on Tyler and gave her a tight hug back. "I will. Love you."

"Love you too," she said as she broke the hug and turned to Tyler before wrapping her arms around him too. "It was nice having you over. You should come around more often. You keep Addi from annoying me too much."

Tyler chuckled as the hug broke and I flipped her off. "Will do."

I took his hand in mine again before we started heading back downstairs where my youngest siblings were putting on their shoes. We exchanged quick goodbyes before I reminded them to go easy on Azalea since I wasn't there to balance them out, then I ruffled their hair in the way they hated.

As we walked out of the building, we were instantly absorbed by the ameba of people that cluttered the sidewalk. The symphony of honking car horns filled the air and the street was just as congested as the sidewalk. Goosebumps rose on my skin, but they were easily combated by the warmth that Tyler's hand offered me.

We submerged ourselves into the underground world of the subway that was filled with a multitude of different people, from college students to businessmen and women to parents bouncing their children on their legs. Our hands had fallen to our sides as soon as we walked onto the train, but not because of shame, but for our own safety. Though New York was mainly an accepting innovative place, I'd read too many stories of LGBTQ+ people getting beaten on subways for holding their lover's hand or for being clocked or for simply wearing rainbow socks. We didn't want to put a target on our backs, especially because we were in closed quarters and we didn't know the people around us. So, we settled in the back of the subway car, satisfying ourselves with the feeling of our shoulders touching and our feet brushing every now and then.

We were about ten minutes away from Tyler's house when I finally worked up the courage to ask the important question: "What do I need to know?" Tyler raised a brow at me. "You know, what to talk about, what to avoid. What have you told him about me? If it's good then I need to live up to that and if it's bad then I need to defy his expectations. Give me the rundown."

He chuckled as he put his hand on my knee in a comforting manner for a split second before retracting it. "Oh look how the tables have turned. My dad is pretty chill. He's a go with the flow type of guy, but he really doesn't like talking about politics, not that I expect you to go in there talking about how corrupt our bipartisan system is and executive orders and stuff. Um, what else...Oh, he likes having his ego stroked, even if it's just a little. So, like, the furniture, the decorations, the food, hell, even his clothes. Compliment one of those and you'll be golden in his book.

"As for you...he knows everything that's happened, the good, the bad, and the ugly. I mean, he knows that I'm over it and that we're on good terms now, I mean, he knew everything the day you came over and you stayed the night, and he wasn't too hostile, mainly because he was too tired to be. But he shouldn't give you any grief about it and if so, I'll be there."

I nodded, trying to swallow the metallic lump that had lodged itself in my throat. Not only did his dad know about my stupid mistakes, but he also had an inside look as to how it affected Tyler in a way that I would never know. He'd know if he spent days crying or cursing me or been in a depression like I had been. He knew that I was the reason behind it. How could I ever get better in his eyes? I hurt his son in a way that reminded him of the worst moments of his life.

My knees felt weak and I felt the buzz of anxiety move through me, pushing and pulling at my heart like the waves of an ocean.

"Hey," Tyler softly said as he used his index finger to gently turn my gaze toward him. "Don't do this to yourself."

"Do what?"

"Overthink."

"Ty, I'm not–"

"Yes, you are. Come on, Addi, I know you. Your eyes, remember? I can read them like a book."

"Oh yeah, I forgot," I said as I averted my eyes. "It's just...it's scary. I'm the one who put you in the position you were in. I'm the one who put you in that state of fear and sadness. He knows that. I know that. And to be honest, if my son or daughter was bringing over the person who hurt them, I wouldn't be too thrilled. I honestly don't know what I would do and that's what scares me: if I don't know what I would do, how can I prepare myself for what he might do? And, of course, he has the right to view me from the lens of the dickish things I did, I'm not faulting him for that. I'm just trying to–"

"Addi, stop, you're working yourself up." He looked me in the eyes. "It's okay. I'll be there and I know my dad. I've got your back in there. We're a united front. Trust me, okay? Can you do that for me?"

I mutely nodded and he grinned. "Good. Now relax and ease your mind, 'kay, Romeo?"

"Okay," I softly said before he guided my head down on his shoulder. There was nothing inherently gay about a guy resting his head on his friend's shoulder. Besides, none of the other passengers seemed interested in us in the slightest. That didn't keep me from staying alert and ready to fight or run at the first sign of trouble.

It didn't take us long to reach our final stop. Once we emerged from the subway, our hands remained at our sides as we walked to Tyler's place. My heart was hammering out of my chest so hard that a dull ache started weaving itself between my ribs.

"We might have something really basic for dinner, I hope that's okay with you," Tyler said as we started walking up the stairs to his floor, his hand finally finding mine again.

"It doesn't matter to me."

"You might have to teach me how to make whatever it was that we had last night because it was amazing and I want to make it for my dad sometime if I can manage to do it without burning down the entire building."

I laughed. "Of course, I'll teach you. Maybe we can..." My words died on my lips as muffled voices filled my ears. Behind one of the doors, the sound of yelling could be heard, though I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying.

I looked at Tyler, but it was as if he was frozen with a look that was somewhere between shock and anger taking refuge on his face. As if snapping out of it, he quickly approached his apartment, fumbling with the keys to open the door. "Tyler, what's going–"

"You can't be here! You're not good for him! You're not good for either of them!" A male voice that I recognized as Mr. Barnett yelled from the other side of the door.

"They're my kids, Malcolm! I'm the best thing for them! You can't take her like you took him, you can't even take care of them without sticking her with a babysitter!" A female voice I didn't recognize bit back.

Tyler cursed as he dropped the keys. His hands shook as he picked them back up and tried again.

"I have that taken care of, Dorthia. I–" The words died on Mr. Barnett's lips as Tyler threw open the door. Standing in the living room was Mr. Barnett and a woman. A shocked look filled their faces as the woman looked between our intertwined hands, me, then settled her gaze on Tyler.

His whole body started shaking next to me as if he were about to shatter into a million pieces at any moment. I held his hand tighter in order to offer some kind of support.

"Tyler, son, I didn't know you were here already," his father tried to say in a casual tone, but Tyler's gaze remained on the woman.

"Mom?"

***

Hey y'all, I hope you enjoyed this extra long chapter because wow it took a lot of time. Anyways, how did you enjoy the chapter? It had a nice balance of cutsie moments and drama. It's also one of the longest chapters I've ever written with nearly 6,000 words. Crazy. Anyways, why do you think Tyler's mom is there? How do you think Tyler's going to react? How do you think Addison's going to react? Let me know in the comments! Also, I was accepted into my very first college yesterday with a $23,000/ year scholarship. It's insane, i still can't believe it. Wish me luck on my other applications! How have y'all's weeks been? Let me know that in the comments as well!

As always, the next chapter is already available on Inkitt for free so if you want to check it out, you can click the Inkitt link in my bio! Spoiler alert: it gets kinda hot and heavy at the end so there's that. Anyway, thank you for your continuous support, and remember to stay healthy and safe!

Love y'all, Jordan