"Don't fall asleep on me," Olivia instructs as she straddles me on my twin sized mattress in my dorm room.

I hum noncommittally.

"Bronx!"

"Finch!" I mock her in an over exaggerated, high pitched voice. "Ow!" I yelp, pulling my face out of my pillow after she jabs me in the shoulder blade with her uncapped highlighter. I prop myself up on my forearms and crane my neck to throw her a glare over my shoulder.

Respectably, she sticks her tongue out at me and starts back up on drawing and labeling the diagram she's started on my back. This week in Anatomy II lab, we're going over back muscles and she's decided to use me as her real life model to study. Not that I mind at all. It's kind of soothing having her draw on my back—minus whenever she get too close to my ribs and it tickles a bit, leading her to tease me about being ticklish even though I'm not—and who wouldn't want their hot girlfriend touching and straddling them?

"You should kiss it and make it better," I suggest playfully.

I watch the corner of her mouth twitch up as she intently works on her diagram. "No."

"No?" I repeat dramatically, feigning bewilderment. "And why not?"

"I don't want to get ink poisoning," she states simply, failing miserably at trying not to smile.

I laugh, shaking my head. "So you're willing to draw all over your boyfriend and give him ink poisoning but you won't kiss his booboo, that you inflicted, for half a second to make it better in fear of your lips possibly touching ink and you getting ink poisoning?"

"Yep." She's full on grinning at this point, still not meeting my gaze, too wrapped up in her work.

"Well then," I mumble, taking her by surprise by reaching back around and gripping her hip to stabilize her before abruptly flipping onto my back from my stomach beneath her. She squeals and I suck in a sharp breath between my teeth as pain shoots through my side.

Worry immediately floods her eyes and she stiffens. "Easy," she chastises softly.

It's been a little over a month since my motorcycle accident, and my broken ribs and leg still have a bit of healing to do. Only a couple of more weeks until I'm no longer hobbling around campus on crutches.

"You okay?" she asks, gently placing her hands on my torso, her thumbs stroking back and forth in a soothing motion across my naked skin.

I grunt, trying to shift into a more comfortable position. "Yeah, I'm good." She gives me a skeptical look, moving to get off me, but I place my hands on her thighs, keeping her in place. "I'm good," I repeat. "With you. Right here."

Her eyes soften and she relaxes a bit, sitting back on my stomach. "I didn't get to finish my diagram," she pouts jokingly.

I roll my eyes, giving her a lazy grin. "Maybe I want a turn to study," I say lowly, my hands reaching for the hem of her shirt, toying with the fabric.

A blush spreads across her cheeks. "Are you really going to study?"

"Of course."

Sitting up, I place my hands under her shirt, touching her soft, warm skin. Slowly, I lift up her shirt, tugging it up and over her head, watching her long caramel hair cascade down her back and shoulders before sealing my lips to hers.

I place my hand on her lower back, pulling her body uptight against mine, absolutely loving the feel of skin on skin contact. Sliding my hand up her back, and my lips down her neck, I unclasp her bra, brushing the straps off her shoulders and down her arms, letting it fall to the floor. My lips travel lower, kissing down the valley of her breasts, kissing the scar running between them.

Olivia's hands thread through my dark hair and I look up at her through my lashes. She brings my face back up to hers, her lips brushing against mine, slowly, passionately.

"We need to study," she whispers against my lips, and before I realize it, she's breaking the kiss, swinging her leg over me and hopping off the bed.

I groan, flopping back down onto the mattress.

Olivia giggles at my agony, grabbing her shirt from the floor and holding it to her chest. "Making out and getting me half naked is not studying, sir."

"We shouldn't even be studying. It's Valentine's Day," I sate, my voice a little whinier than I'd like for it to be.

"Yes, but it's only 3:00 in the afternoon, and we already went out to a nice dinner for Valentine's Day on Saturday," she points out. Since Valentine's Day fell on a Monday this year, and we both have classes on Tuesday, we decided to more-so celebrate on Saturday instead. "And since we did that Saturday and the Super Bowl yesterday, we haven't studied at all for the Anatomy II lab quiz tomorrow and the first exam on Thursday," she explains.

"By 'haven't studied at all' you mean haven't studied in the past forty-eight hours," I sate, giving her a look. Because Lord knows she always has us studying, at the very least, a week before an exam.

She gives me the same look right back, grabbing the highlighter she was previously using from the bed and holding it out to me. "If you can draw and label a diagram on my back correctly for the quiz tomorrow, I'll consider cutting our study session short."

"Wow, you're into some really kinky stuff, baby," I mumble sarcastically.

She gasps, lightly swatting me on the arm, causing me to chuckle.

"Don't worry, Finch. We all got our weird fetishes," I tease, purposely making her cheeks bright red.

"I hate you," she mutters under her breath.

"That's a lie. You looove me," I coo, a dopey grin on my face.

She tries her best to feign a stern face. "I'd love you more if you actually studied," she quips back, jutting the highlighter at me once more.

I sigh dramatically, reluctantly sitting up and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed to sit up, grabbing the highlighter from her. "Fine," I grumble.

She beams, quickly darting forward to smack a kiss on my cheek—knowing if she actually went in to kiss me on the lips we'd have to start this whole process over again. Turning around, she pulls her long caramel hair over her shoulder, exposing the long, smooth lines of her back to me.

Unable to resist, I lean forward and press a kiss to her bare shoulder, prompting her to crane her neck and give me a warning glare. "Alright, Finch," I surrender, uncapping the marker and drawing on her skin. I write strategically, as not to tip her off, but when I draw the heart in the center of her back she alerts immediately.

Jumping away, she glares at me in questioning. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I say, flashing her my best innocent look.

Dubious, she marches over to the full length mirror on the back of the door and looks at it over her shoulder to observe the masterpiece I created on her back. "Bronx!" she scolds.

I grin madly as she stares at the words Property of Bronx Miller scrawled across her back, complete with a decently draw heart, given my lack of art skills.

She flicks her gaze to me, eyes wide with shock and a hint of amusement, her jaw hanging open. "Bronx!"

Still smiling, I stand from the bed and hop the few feet over to her on my good leg. Placing my hands on the door on each side of her head, I cage her in. She's still stunned enough to not scold me for walking without my crutches.

She sputters before blurting out, "This is not studying!"

I can't help but laugh, leaning in and placing a kiss on her cheek. Pulling back, I offer her the highlighter. "Alright, I'll let you get revenge, if you want."

Pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes, she snatches the highlighter and writes a big F on the left side of my chest, right over my heart. "That's what you're going to get on the lab quiz tomorrow," she threatens.

"And here I thought the F was for Finch," I say, jutting my lip out in an over dramatic fashion, pouting. I see her eyes sparkle for a moment in realization and I lean in until our lips are only an inch apart. "Can I have a kiss?" I ask lowly.

She breaks, unable to hold back her smile and giggle. "No."

"No?"

"Nope," she says, despite still smiling brightly. Slowly, she brings the highlighter back up to my chest, drawing a heart around the F.

I love her this way. When she's in a playful, spunky mood.

When she's finished, I take the highlighter from her, writing a B with a heart on the right side of her chest—her left—directly over her heart.  Her eyes soften, and she rolls up onto the balls of her feet, gently pressing her lips to mine.

We kiss for a few minutes, soft and slow and playful.

"Do we really have to keep studying?" I ask, just wanting to stay like this for the rest of the day. I know Valentine's Day is a stupid Hallmark holiday to rake in millions and give couples some sort of weird validation, but it's our first one together, and despite it being on a Monday, I still want it to be special.

Olivia bites her lip, looking contemplative. "Only if you promise me you'll study during our lunch break tomorrow," she compromises.

I sigh, knowing there had to be a compromise. "I promise."

She smiles and I lean in, smiling against her lips before kissing her once more.

"Now can you bring my desk chair over here?" I ask after breaking the kiss.

She furrows her brows, her head slightly tilting in confusion. "Yeah?" she says, ducking under my arm propped up on the door to grab my desk chair, dragging it over. "You okay?" she asks, alarm climbing in her voice as she goes to put the chair behind me, thinking I need to sit down.

"I'm great," I assure her, grabbing the chair and propping it under the door handle.

She gives me another confused look.

"So Chase doesn't come barging in," I explain. "You know he has the worst timing ever."

She wears her look of confusion for a few more moments before her eyes widen in realization of what I'm insinuating. "Oh."

I chuckle. "Yeah, oh. Now come here," I murmur, grabbing her face in my hands and pulling her lips to mine, kissing her fervently.

Around 8:00 pm, I lead Olivia over to the football stadium, taking her around the back to the locker room. Coach gave me the keys to get in and let me set up something special for Olivia.

We walk into the nice, fancy ass D1 locker room, all the lights off except for the fairy lights strung around the perimeter of the blanket fort set up around the huge plasma screen TV that typically displays the team's logo but currently houses the Netflix home screen.

Olivia gasps, taking in the fort, fairy lights, candles, heart shaped balloons, and the blankets and pillows scattered all over the floor.

Damn, Delilah really did a great job, I think.

Because of my broken leg, I wasn't able to set all of this stuff up by myself so I recruited Delilah and gave her my vision and my credit card, and she was more than happy to go to town and set this up for me.

"Bronx," Olivia coos, her bottom lip poking out in an adorable pout. "This is so cute," she states. "Thank you."

Setting my crutches down, I wrap my arms around her waist, her arms looping around my neck. I press my forehead to hers. "You really like it?" I whisper, a little bit nervous, wanting this to be perfect. I never celebrated Valentine's Day before, so I wasn't necessarily sure how it all worked or what she would like.

She gives me a soft, meaningful smile. "I love it."

"And I love you," I state, pressing my lips to hers.

"I love you too."

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby."

Author's Note: AHHH! It was so fun getting to write for Bronx and Olivia again! These two still have my heart, and I hope you enjoyed this EXTRA cheesy bonus chapter! ❤️

Happy Valentine's Day!
-Nicole