SEQUEL TO 'The Bro-Code'
READING THE PREQUEL
IS NOT REQUIRED :)
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''I don't know what you're going through right now, and you were right, I have no right to just barge back into your life and demand to know everything about it. You...
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•Steven's POV•
My phone dings in my pocket and I pull it out to look at the message on the screen.
- 'I'm here.'- D
I quickly text back that I'm heading out then I tuck my phone back into my pocket and grab ahold of my suitcase before making my way towards the exit.
I wasn't going to ask Damien to pick me up from the airport but he offered, much to my surprise.
He called me in tears last night, incoherently trying to tell me what the problem was and begging me to come back to California.
And there was no part of me that could deny him.
Or that really wanted to.
I asked him the question that decided the layout for this trip though, of course I did, and he said he was done with Otto for the most part and that he'd explain everything once I landed.
In fact, he even bought my plane ticket, despite my objection over him spending his money on me.
He sent me the ticket and told me he'd pick me up at the airport in the morning.
So here we are, about ten hours later, 6 o'clock in the morning and I'm looking past the small group of people wandering about outside the airport in the early morning light as I attempt to spot Damien's car.
Eventually I find him, leaning against his car and his attention soaring into his phone that he's tapping on furiously.
He doesn't notice me as I head towards him, the frown covering his face becoming more visible the closer I get to him. His light brown hair is a mess atop his head, and I get the feeling he's been carding his fingers through it endlessly.
''What's got you pouting?'' I ask, the sound of my voice making him look up quickly.
I expect him to look up and have my presence wipe the frown from his face but instead he just arches a brow, shaking his head. The worry lines prominent on his forehead and I can see the pinkness lining his eyelids that encloses those vibrant blue eyes of his.
He's been crying.
A lot.
''It's a long story,'' He says, standing up straight and reaching for my suitcase. When I notice the sadness in his eyes my urge to argue about putting my own suitcase in the car dissipates, I simply hand it over to him. He tosses his car keys to me after he opens the trunk. ''Could you drive please? My address is already in the GPS.'' He asks while putting my suitcase into the trunk.
''Um, yeah, sure,'' I agree with a shrug. With as much attention as he's giving to his phone, I'd have offered to drive anyway. And he better not had been on his phone like that while driving here.
