A while ago I started writing alternative scenes for this story, mostly from Carlisle's POV, and I decided I may as well post them as well, so I've created a separate fic as not to interrupt this one.

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So, if you're interested in more of the boys, here we go: s/12854569/1/The-Boy-in-the-Book-Shop-Outtakes

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The next morning, I was overly relieved that Carlisle stayed home with me. I didn't want to have to ask him, but he called in sick without me needing to. Everything ached, and moving really sucked. My boyfriend bought me coffee in bed, giving me an excuse to stay there even longer, god bless him. I didn't want to look at how bad the bruises were now; I knew it wasn't going to be pretty.

Instead, I listened to Carlisle on the phone in the kitchen, talking to Sue about something else that hadn't been going right in the shop. He really needed to be there today, and the guilt that I was preventing him from going was slowly growing. Despite the fact I'd be fine, I was anxious about him leaving; with my phone broken, I had no way of contacting him once he was gone, and if anything happened to him, no one would be able to get hold of me. Irrational, yes, but true. I guess love does make you crazy.

This went on until after lunch, with an hour or so of peace in between calls. He frowned as he settled next to me again, reaching over to pull my shirt away from my shoulder to check the injury. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Carlisle; it looks worse than it is. The paramedics would have sent me to hospital if it was that concerning." I threaded my fingers through his, squeezing his hand.

"I guess so." Leaning down to kiss me, he used his free hand to brush my hair off my face.

I shuffled up the bed, knotting my fingers in his shirt to tug him closer. In an attempt not to fall on me, he kept one hand on the bed by my hip, not letting his weight hit me. It didn't worry me that much, and I managed to get underneath his clothing as he pressed kisses against my neck. I dragged my fingernails across his back as his teeth scraped my skin, slipping my other hand down to grip his thigh. I was quickly growing to hate his jeans, tugging them slightly.

Unfortunately, his phone started vibrating again, and we both groaned as he sat back. His cheeks stained pink as he spoke to Sue again, wriggling away from get off the bed. He froze in the doorway, his eyes widening as he paused mid-step.

I propped myself up on my elbows, wondering what on earth had gone wrong now. "What?" I asked as he lowered the phone again.

"Someone from head office is at the shop; I have to go, Gar...Will you be okay?" Looking worried, he was holding his phone in both hands in front of him, watching me pleadingly.

"I'll be fine," I assured him, getting a little nervous anyway.

"It shouldn't be for too long, and I'll come straight home again?" He was studying my face, and I hoped I was hiding my anxiety well enough to fool him. My acting skills weren't the best, but I could keep my fingers crossed.

I just nodded, not trusting my voice.

He blew out a tight breath, starting to stress. "I can...I'll call Sue back, and maybe I can just talk to them over the phone, and-"

"Just go, Carlisle. I'll manage; there's nothing actually wrong with me."

Sitting on the bed again, he captured my hand. "But it's upsetting you," he murmured, squeezing my fingers.

There wasn't a point in lying to him. "I just...I don't like that I can't contact you once you're gone...I feel fine, it just makes me nervous." What scared me most was him not being able to tell me if something happened, but I knew I was being ridiculous. He was just going in to work. It wasn't miles away, his co-workers knew where he lived, and he'd probably be back in a few hours.

Pausing a moment, he disappeared down the hallway. He came back with his laptop, sitting on the bed in front of me. "Email me; I'll check my inbox every half an hour, and I'll come back if you need me to."

"This really is unnecessary," I mumbled, a little embarrassed about how petty I was being.

"But does it make you feel better?" he asked softly, rubbing my hand.

I nodded; it really did. "Yeah…"

"Then it's necessary." Leaning forward, he kissed me gently. "I'll be back as soon as I can. And don't you dare try and make dinner; you stay put."

"You're mothering me," I teased as much as I was able to.

He rolled his eyes at me but didn't dispute my statement. "I love you."

"I love you too."

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Having a connection to Carlisle did make me less panicky about the whole thing, but it didn't help time pass any faster. Eventually, I got sick of lying down, and hauled my ass out of bed. I couldn't resist a peek at the marks my seatbelt at left; the bruises felt hot and swollen. Sure enough, the colour had deepened, and I pulled my shirt over it again with a grimace.

Standing too long made my back hurt, and I quickly found myself slouched on the couch and nursing whiplash. Downing a couple of painkillers helped to dull the ache, but all I really wanted was to be cuddled up with my boy in bed.

After spending a good few hours emailing several mechanics, trying to organise someone to deal with my car, I was sure I was going to go batshit crazy. My boyfriend had already promised to attempt to drive it to wherever it needed to go, so that was that sorted, but no one was really willing to check it over. It was winding me up to no end, and I was quickly becoming a turbulent child, forced to give up asking before I snapped at someone who's fault it wasn't.

I did eventually end up lying down again, bored shitless and trying to find some position that was comfortable enough to stop the aching. Having the laptop helped. I set it on my stomach, lying awkwardly against the pillows as I dove into the internet. It was taking all of my will power not to have a quick look through Carlisle's browser history, but he had trusted me enough to leave his laptop unlocked with me, so I forced myself to be good. Ultimate relationship goals, really.

It was only after I woke up to the sound of the curtains being tugged closed, finding myself already covered in a blanket with the laptop on the bedside table beside me, that I realised I'd fallen asleep again. Gentle fingers brushed my hair off my face, and Carlisle leaned down to kiss me. "Hungry?" he asked softly.

I caught hold of his hand, kissing the back of it. "Sort of. How was work? Was everything okay?" Trying to sit up required too much effort, so I pulled him down instead, shuffling over so he could comfortably lie beside me.

He placed his hand on my chest, fidgeting with my shirt, but didn't lean against me like he normally did. "One of the people from head office had come down to make sure I hadn't fucked up too badly," he sighed.

"And were they happy with you?" I pressed, gently guiding him so that he rested his head against my shoulder. The small amount of pain it caused was worth the intimacy.

Although he complied, he was very careful, kissing my neck as he settled down. "They must have been; I've got an interview for the new position next week." He was half hiding a smile, clearly relieved.

I squeezed him, grinning at the ceiling. "I'm so proud of you; it's about time something went right for you."

"I haven't got the job yet," he reminded me. He sounded happy despite it. "Rosalie is going to fix your car, by the way." Although he said it like I should know who that was, I couldn't place the name, frowning. "Emmett's girlfriend?" he clarified, hiding another smile.

"The guy that was excited to meet me, right?" I asked, thinking back to a few months ago and trying to match names with faces. It was a bit of a relief to me that he was talking to his friends again; he hadn't really spoken to anyone other than Alistair and I since he'd come back from London.

He nodded, rolling his eyes at the memory. "Yeah; the one who wanted to torment us."

"Thank you…" Apparently, I didn't need to tell him how stressed out about it I was; he was always one step ahead of me. Dinner wasn't appealing now that I had my boy beside me again, and I started to get comfortable for the night.

Carlisle wasn't allowing me to get away with it, though. He pulled away after a few minutes, sitting up. "Come on, I'll make us something to eat."

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After Carlisle had told me that Rosalie didn't want payment for fixing the shitty piece of metal I called a vehicle, I was determined to at least bake something as a thank you. My back still hurt quite a lot, but my boy intervened whenever I attempted something that made me wince. It was sort of fun; I'd missed cooking like this. Now that I wasn't left on my own very often, and didn't have hours of solitude a day, I had stopped cooking as entertainment. This was a nice reminder of how much I enjoyed it, and I silently vowed to start making proper meals again instead of the half-ass attempts I made now.

A couple of batches of cookies later -and a realisation that I was a male adult and this was really lame - and we were trying to start the car again. Something about the way Carlisle thought that turning the key in the ignition harder might get it going, although it had already refused, was making me chuckle to myself.

He rolled his eyes at me once he'd caught me laughing, but got out again to try and figure out what was going on. He resorted to calling Rosalie, looking very, very unsure of himself as she tried to talk him through doing god knows what under the hood. It took a good ten minutes of him grumbling and cursing under his breath before he'd managed to do whatever she was trying to get him to.

I was unexpectedly nervous as we pulled into their driveway. Thankfully, the drive had gone okay, but I was anxious about meeting Carlisle's friends again.

I was fidgeting as he knocked on the front door, and he reached back to squeeze my fingers in reassurance. It wasn't like I could just wait in the car, either, so I was going to have to get over it pretty quickly.

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I liked the dog an awful lot. Not as much as my boyfriend did, though. The insanely curly creature had thrown itself into Carlisle's lap the moment he'd sat down, and he'd spent the last half an hour running his fingers through it's hair. I'd never really seen him with an animal before, and I was barely resisting taking a photo of the two of them because it was so sweet. The only thing that was stopping me was that I couldn't do it discreetly.

I was pretty sure I looked like absolute trash, sitting on their white leather sofas in jeans and the shirt that I wore yesterday and slept in last night. My boyfriend looked like a little kid, on the massive couch, the image amplified by the massive beast in his lap.

Rosalie and Emmett's carpet was a perfect cream, and their kitchen was spotless. Fuck, even all their cutlery matched. The plate the cookies sat on was obnoxiously blue against their stone bench tops, the one misplaced item in the room.

"Any excuse to cuddle the dog," Rosalie grumbled to me as she past, her smirk suggesting she was joking as she glanced at Carlisle. By the look of it, he'd trade me to have it in his bed, and she laughed when I told her that. "You're not wrong there. Come show me what you did to your car."

I awkwardly followed her out into their picket-fence-surrounded-yard, almost laughing at the sight of my pitiful piece of shit that I was determined to call a vehicle sitting in their driveway. Behind Emmett's jeep, it looked like a scrapheap. "...uh...someone hit me from behind...and then I ran it up the curb," I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck for something to do.

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "Of course you did. How long did it take for your girlfriend to get it started this morning? I bet that's the first time the bookworm has ever had his hands under a bonnet." That was added for Carlisle's benefit as he came to stand on the deck.

"Hey, we made you food," he protested, fighting laughing. The dog was sitting at his feet, and he was unconsciously stroking its ears.

"No, Garrett made the cookies, and you're just a nuisance."

He didn't even attempt to defend himself, coming over the watch as tools were dragged out and Rose got to work. "Would I still be a nuisance if I dog-sat for you next time you and Em went away?"

This only produced another eye roll. "Such a hardship, Carlisle. Besides, I doubt Garrett wants dog hair all through his house."

'Our house', I almost corrected, unable to stop a frown. "As long as it doesn't chew the furniture," I laughed instead.

"The worst it'll do is piss on the carpet."

After we got the car into their garage, it took another hour for Rosalie to sort everything out. Another hour of talking before we were able to head home again. They both hugged me goodbye upon leaving, and the acceptance made my chest swell with happiness.

Even more so, my car was running smoothly. Sure, it was still dented in places and had more than a few scratches, but it started straight away and the engine sounded healthy. I'd be forever in Rose's debt.

"We should go get ice cream?" I suggested on the way home. Considering the amount of cookies we'd shared with the other two, we really didn't need it, but cravings couldn't be helped.

Carlisle didn't need much convincing, and soon enough we were sitting in what little sun we could find in the middle of a park, sweet treat in hand.

Choosing something that was literally frozen while the temperature was as low as it was seemed rather stupid, but wonderful all the same. It was making my boyfriend a little shivery, but I had him sitting between my legs in front of me, my free arm around his waist to hold him against me.

He waited until I had swallowed the last mouthful before saying anything. "You realise you just did that in public with a panic attack?" he asked softly, reaching back to squeeze my thigh.

I lay back on the grass, taking him with me and laughing as he maneuvered himself around so that he could face me. "I guess I did...it's just ice cream, though?"

"Doesn't matter, you still did it," he murmured, gently pressing his lips against mine. One hand tangled in my hair, the other caressing the back of my neck, still being careful of my injuries.

"Thank you for fixing my car." I stole another kiss, rubbing my hand up and down his back.

"One less thing to stress about? How are you feeling?" His smile was especially sweet, I decided, when the sun filtered through his hair like that.

I brushed my hand through it as an excuse to touch him. "Good. I'm really good, Carlisle."