Monday afternoon, after our English class, Olivia and I head to the library to study. When we enter, we're both shocked by the amount of people inside. The library is packed, people hustling and bustling about with large stacks of books in their arms, the volume in the rather quiet building louder than normal.

I glance at the corner table we usually study at, finding it occupied. Scanning the room, I realize all the tables are occupied with students who have their noses buried deep in their books and notes. Some are highlighting profusely, while others chug from Styrofoam coffee coups every few seconds, blinking rapidly to stay focused.

This place looks like utter hell.

"Whoa," Olivia breathes, eyes still scanning the room for a place to sit, besides the floor.

"Welcome to finals," I mumble. "A.K.A. Hell Week."

She shakes her head, baffled. "We could see if there's any space in the science building lounges. Maybe even in the business building?" she suggests.

I shake my head, knowing everyone else probably came to the same conclusion. "Everywhere on campus is sure to be packed," I say, trying to think of an alternative. We could go somewhere off campus, but I don't know how beneficial that would be. I'd probably lose focus pretty quickly. "We could go back to my room," I offer.

Her eyes widen a fraction in surprise. "We could..." she trails off, but I can tell she's trying to think of another alternative. "But what about Chase?"

I wave my hand dismissively. "He's going to the Delta Psi Beta party tonight, so he won't be back until way after midnight. If he even comes back at all."

She looks at me skeptically. "A frat party? On a Monday night?"

"What can I say, Finch. Some people just have their priorities straight."

She shakes her head in disbelief.

"And you're not going to said party?" she asks, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Admittedly, in the past I probably would have gone to that party and gotten absolutely trashed. Delta Psi Beta's parties right before finals are legendary—not to mention a great stress reliever. In the moment, at least. The hangovers are pretty fucking brutal, though, which is why they always throw it the week before finals. We all may not be the brightest, but we're not totally stupid enough to show up to finals hungover.

"Me?" I place a hand to my chest, flashing her a feigned look of innocence. "Never. Plus, why would I go to a dumb frat party when I can spend time with my favorite girl, instead. Even if it is to just study."

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the blush creeping up on her cheeks. "Fine, we'll studying in your room. But no fooling around," she instructs, jutting a stern finger in my direction.

Fooling around.

I hadn't thought about it until now. Well, I have—undeniably—but I actually wasn't thinking about it currently when suggesting we go back to my room to study. And now I'm definitely not thinking about it as innocently as she is.

"Whatever you say, Finch," I say, flashing her a playful grin.

She shoots me an exasperated look before leading the way to the exit. We walk out of the busy library and back out into the cold to walk across campus to my dorm. On the walk over, I try to walk close to her, huddling together for warmth. Since last week, Olivia has been much better. Her sinuses have cleared and she seems back to her old self, but I don't want to risk her getting sick again.

Halfway to the dorms, I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Pulling it out, I glance at the screen that's lit up with an incoming call from a number I don't recognize. It's an out of state number, and I worry it may be a scout trying to get in contact with me.

I glance at Olivia, finding her already staring at me. "Sorry, Finch, I should probably take this," I admit, giving her an apologetic smile.

She waves her hand dismissively, telling me to answer it. She pulls away, putting over a foot of distance between us as we walk, politely trying to give me a fraction of privacy.

I step closer, closing the gap between us, not caring if she hears my conversation, before answering my phone. "Hello?"

"Bout time you answered my call," an annoyed, raspy, chain-smoker like voice comes through the line, making my blood run cold.

Caught off guard, I stop in my tracks. Olivia jerks to a halt a couple of steps in front of me, sensing something is wrong. She looks at me over her shoulder, a look of concern on her face.

"What do you want?" I ask lowly, my voice cold.

"Grandma is sick," my mother says, as if the news is some sort of new revelation.

"She's been sick for years," I spit, wondering where she's going with this. Why she's really calling me.

My grandma has been stuck in a nursing home for over ten years now due to declining health. Admittedly, my grandma and I never had a very close relationship, solely because of my mother. I would only see her once every blue moon, sometimes when there was a holiday or my mother was sober enough to remember to show up to a family function.

When I was a baby, my teenage mother pushed me off on my grandma most of the time. Hell, she practically forced the woman to take care of me, sneaking out of the house to go get trashed, leaving me with her. My grandma finally had enough of my mother and her out of control drug addiction, kicking her out.

While my grandma didn't want me to be stuck with my mother, she couldn't keep me, either. I guess I can't blame her for not taking me in. I wouldn't want to be stuck with a baby either, after I thought I was done raising my own kids and my health was starting to decline.

At least she seemed to care about me, though. Just because she couldn't take care of me herself, doesn't mean she didn't try to find me a good home on her own. But when all of my family members and friends she trusted declined to take me in, she had no other choice than to put me in foster care. She figured it was a lot better than being with my mother who could put me in danger or overdose any second. That was the first time I ever went into the system.

I've minimally kept in touch with my grandmother over the years. Not so much after I became an adult. The last time I talked to her was probably over two years ago, and her dementia was pretty bad. She didn't even remember my name.

"Well she's really sick now," she says, almost blandly. "They say this will be her last Christmas, and she really wants to see you."

Bullshit.

The last time we spoke she hardly remembered who I was. There's no way in hell she personally requested for me to come see her. This is just a gateway for my mother to get me to Florida to see if she can snag any cash from me.

"I'm busy," I say through a clinched jaw, my patience wearing very thin with her.

"Too busy to come see your dying grandmother?" she asks, trying to manipulate me, making my blood boil.

"I'll see," I say sharply, hanging up the phone, not wanting to deal with her anymore. I know this is all just a game to her. She could really care less if my grandmother is dying, especially since she left her out of her will, and she sure as hell doesn't call me for anything important like that. She only calls if she needs something.

Not even ten seconds after hanging up, the same number calls back and I instantly hit decline. I turn off my phone and shove it into my pocket, not wanting to deal with it.

Blood boiling, I look up and see Olivia's concerned face. I instantly snap back to reality, momentarily forgetting where I was and what we were doing, spiraling in my anger.

She approaches me slowly, cautiously, her voice soft. "Hey, you okay?"

I look deep into her warm brown eyes, seeking comfort. Letting out a long exhale through my nose, I loosen my shoulders, my muscles taut from stress. "Yeah, I'm good," I say, my voice rough.

She frowns, seeing through my lie, but her eyes are patient.

Those damn eyes, they get me every time.

Usually, I'm a very reserved person. I not a big talker, especially when it comes to personal things, but when it comes to her, all I can seem to do is talk. It's almost scary how much I've told her in comparison to anyone else. But those eyes; big, round, warm, innocent, patient, inviting, they make me feel safe. Like I actually want to open up.

I let out another exhale through my mouth, my hand coming up to cup the back of my neck. "That was my mom."

Her eyes widen in surprise. "What did she say?"

I shake my head. "Nothing important."

I can tell that's not the answer she's looking for just by the look on her face, but her eyes are still patient, breaking me.

I swipe a hand down my face, rubbing my jaw. "My grandma's sick."

Her eyes fill with worry and sympathy. "Bronx—"

I cut her off, saving her from a pity speech, waving my hand dismissively. "She's been sick for years. It's nothing new," I inform her, my anger suddenly prickling again. "My mom says she wants me to come visit her for Christmas, but it's just a ploy to get me to come to Florida. My grandma has dementia, and the last time I spoke to her she barely knew who I was, so I know my mom is just trying to get me down there to see if I'll give her cash or something. Like she always does," I scoff bitterly.

She frowns, nodding in understanding. "But do you want to go see your grandmother for the holiday?"

"No," I answer honestly.

I see the disappointment in her eyes, and I realize how harsh that must have sounded.

"We were never close, Finch," I explain gently, grabbing her hand, hoping she doesn't think of me as some monster. "I only saw or spoke to her once every couple of years."

"Oh." I see the sadness behind her eyes. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"Not since high school," I admit, inwardly cringing at how awful it must sound. "But I've talked to her on the phone a handful of times since."

"Is she back in Florida?"

"Yeah."

A silence falls over us and I can tell she's in her head about the subject, and the longer we stand here I feel myself start to brood. She doesn't deserve that. She doesn't deserve my shitty mood after another family issue. Again.

"Hey, let's forget about this, yeah?" I ask, desperate to change the topic and the mood. "Let's just go back to my room and study."

She nods, but I can tell she's still distant, thinking.

Hand still in mine, I lead her across campus to the dorm. When we walk through the doors, Brennen instantly looks up from his phone behind the front desk, his feet kicked up as he leans back in the desk chair.

"Miller!" he greets, his eyes landing on Olivia's hand in mine before lifting to her face. "McCausland!" He beams. "What are you two up to?" he asks, sitting up straight in his chair.

"Just going to go study, man," I say, hoping he doesn't keep us long.

"Study? In your room?" he asks, raising a curious brow, because he knows I don't bring girls to my room.

"Yep, it is getting close to finals," I say, straining to keep it casual, wishing he didn't have to sound like that to tip Olivia off.

A slow, seemingly knowing grin spreads across his face. "Ah. Well you two kids have fun," he drawls suggestively.

I mentally face palm, dragging Olivia past Brennen and down the hall towards my room.

Reluctantly letting go of Olivia's hand, I grab my keys from my pocket and unlock the door. I hold it open for Olivia and let her step in first.

She steps through the door and heads straight for my desk. Shrugging off her backpack and her coat, she sets her bag on the floor and hangs her coat on the back of the desk chair. She pulls out all of her study materials, laying them neatly on the desk top before taking a seat in my desk chair.

I feel something sitting heavily on my shoulders, but I ignore it, shaking the feeling off with my backpack and coat. Again, she doesn't deserve my shitty mood. She already had to put up with me the last time, and she's taking time out of her busy week to study with me.

I toss my backpack and coat at the foot of my bed, hopping up onto the firm mattress that lets out a loud whine under my weight. Shimmying up to the headboard, I lean my back against it, lacing my fingers behind my head.

Olivia looks at me skeptically, and I can't help but grin. "Come sit up here, Finch," I instruct, patting the space in front of me.

"Do you really think that's the best place to study?"

"Yes."

She gives me a doubtful look.

I lean over and snatch up her binder full of notes, holding it hostage to bait her.

"Hey!"

She stands from the chair, trying to grab her binder back, but I hold it above my head.

"Bronx!" She tries to sound stern, but she laughs. "Give it back!"

"Uh-uh," I grin.

She places her knee on my mattress to gain leverage, trying to reach above my head, but she can't reach. Lunging forward, trying to snatch the binder back, she manages to grab the corner of it but loses her balance and falls forward on top of me, her face inches from mine.

We both freeze, eyes locking.

She slowly pulls away, sitting back on her knees.

"Looks like it worked," I say, breaking the silence. "Guess we're studying here." I grin victoriously.

She blinks slowly, clearing her head before glaring at me. She snatches her binder back, huffing playfully before sitting back and crisscrossing her legs, sitting in front of me. "And what did I say about funny business?" she mutters under her breath sarcastically.

Opening up her binder and setting it in her lap, she flips through her notes, contemplating where to start.

Feeling playful, I grab her crisscrossed calves and pull her closer until our knees knock together.

She lets out a little shriek, gasping. "Bronx," she says, a hint of warning in here tone.

"There. Better." I grin.

She gives me a look before glancing back down at her notes. "Okay, so I was thinking," she trails off, tabbing off pages. "We can go over these sections today for lab. I can list off a few bones and you can tell me where they're generally located."

She looks up at me through her thick lashes for confirmation.

"Sure. Sounds good." I lace my hands back together behind my head, getting comfortable.

We study for about ten minutes, her listing off bones and me pointing them out on my own body. Until I get bored.

Suddenly, a brilliant but semi dangerous idea comes to my head.

"Acromion," Olivia says.

Feeling bold, I lean forward, pressing my lips to the end of her shoulder.

She softly gasps, eyes wide. "Bronx... what are you doing?" she asks, a slight waver in her voice.

I shrug, confident. "I was right, wasn't I?" I ask innocently.

"Y-yes," she sputters adorably, clearly flustered.

I watch her throat work on a swallow as she fidgets, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Patella," she says, refusing to look up from her notes.

I grin, leaning all the way forward to place a kiss to her jean clad knee.

"Lunate," she squeaks.

I lean forward and place a delicate kiss to her wrist.

"Humerus," her voice turns softer, breathier.

I kiss her upper arm.

"Clavicle."

I kiss her collar bone that's covered by her sweater.

"Sternocleidomastoid."

I pause, a grin forming on my face. Leaning forward, I let my lips brush against the side of her neck. "That's not even a bone, Finch," I rasp against her skin, pressing an open mouthed kiss there, anyway.

She gasps, her hand landing on my knee.

"Jaw."

I skim my lips upward, lightly nipping at her jaw bone, seeing where she's going with this.

"Auricular lobe."

Moving my lips higher, I lightly flick my tongue over the skin just under her ear before kissing her ear lobe.

She shudders, her voice coming out shaky. "Buccal."

Slowly, tortuously, I skim my lips to her soft cheek, placing a soft kiss there. "Where next, Finch?"

She pulls back an inch, those brown eyes locking on mine, hazed over. Her eyes drift down to my lips for a brief moment before landing back on mine. She looks at me with uncertainty and fascination.

"Say it, Finch," I urge her softly, desperately.

I lean in until the tips of our noses are touching, our lips inches apart. I lean in further, lingering until our lips almost brush against each other, teasing.

"Say it," I whisper, wanting her to be the one to willingly seal the gap between us.

She takes in a jagged breath, and instead of using her words, she tilts her head to the side and leans in to press her unbelievably soft lips to mine.

That's it. I'm done for. Every inch of me feels like I'm on fire.

I take her face in my hands, deepening the kiss, being mindful to be gentle with her. But damn is it hard not to fall all in. To kiss the absolute sense out of her. Devour her. But instead, I take it slow, savoring the feeling of her lips on mine. Because I'll be damned if I scare her off  too quickly.

This isn't like any other kiss I've had before, and Olivia is definitely not like any other girl I've kissed before.

Before I get too carried away, I slow the pace, pecking her lips before pulling away, smiling.

Opening my eyes, I watch her beautiful eyes flutter open, her lips twitching up as her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink.

"Finally," I sigh, resting my forehead against hers.

Finally.

FINALLY!!!

Gah, I can't stress that word enough! lol I know this has been such a slow burn but I hope the wait was worth it! :)