Chapter 31
BECK
“Hey,” she says softly, her blue eyes meeting mine as I reach her.
Before I can stop myself, I’m sliding an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in.
She fits against me perfectly, her body warm, her hair brushing my jaw.
The feeling of her against me is something I’ve suddenly started to crave.
She loops one arm around my waist in return, giving me a quick squeeze that lingers just a beat too long.
The noise of the party fades a little. It’s ridiculous—there’s music thumping, people laughing, a dozen conversations happening at once—but all I can focus on is the way her smile reaches her eyes when she leans back to look up at me.
“Hi,” I murmur back, and for some reason it comes out a little rougher than I meant.
She’s still tucked under my arm, and neither of us makes a move to step away. We just…stand there. Smiling. Staring. Like two idiots who forgot how words work.
Ava, standing on Sophie’s other side, watches this unfold with a grin that’s all mischief. “Okay,” she says, drawing the word out as she backs away. “I’ll just…let you two keep doing whatever this is while I go get a drink.”
Sophie flushes, biting her lip to hide a laugh, and I can’t stop mine from spreading wider. Her cheeks are pink, her eyes bright, and my thumb twitches against her shoulder like it wants to memorize the moment.
She tugs lightly on my hand, tilting her head toward the back of the house. “Want to get some air?”
“Yeah,” I say instantly, like I’d follow her anywhere.
We weave through the crush of bodies, shoulders brushing, her fingers still looped loosely through mine. Someone yells about flip cup in the kitchen, and a couple of guys nearly knock into us on their way past, but Sophie just laughs and keeps going.
The second we push open the sliding glass door, the noise dulls to a hum.
The porch light casts everything in a soft glow, and the cool night air hits my skin like a reset button.
She walks straight to the railing, leaning against it with her elbows propped, looking up at the sky like she’s been waiting to breathe all night.
I stop right beside her, close enough that our shoulders almost touch.
“Better?” I ask.
Her smile is small but real. “Yeah. I love cheer, and I love being around people, but sometimes it’s a lot, you know?”
I nod. I do know.
For a minute, we just stand there, the sounds of the party muted behind the glass door. Her cheeks are slightly flushed and her hair’s a little frizzy from the night air, but she looks…perfect. My gaze drifts down before I can stop it—mouth, jawline, the soft dip of her collarbone.
She turns her head right as I’m looking.
Our eyes lock.
The tension hits like a punch to the gut—sudden and sharp and completely unplanned. Neither of us looks away. Her breath catches; mine does too.
I clear my throat first, because if I don’t, I might do something stupid. Like lean in.
“So,” I say, shifting my weight against the railing. “You always sneak out to porches at parties, or is this a special occasion?”
She laughs quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I only do it with people worth sneaking out with.”
My heart stutters in my chest. Get it together, Harrison.
She leans back against the porch railing, the distant thump of music pulsing through the house behind us. The night air is cool, the glow from the patio light turning everything warm and soft.
“Tell me something real,” she says suddenly, her eyes focused on me.
I huff out a quiet laugh, crossing my arms. “You first.”
She squints. “Why do you always make me go first?”
“Because,” I say, fighting a grin, “watching you overthink is entertaining.”
She lets out a fake gasp. “You’re terrible.”
“Yeah, but you like it,” I shoot back, enjoying the way her mouth twitches like she’s trying not to smile.
Her eyes narrow playfully. “You wish.”
“I know,” I say simply, and the corner of my mouth lifts just enough to make her roll her eyes.
She sighs dramatically. “Fine.” She looks away for a second, like she’s gathering her thoughts. “Okay, something real…” Her voice softens, losing the teasing edge. “I pretend like I have everything figured out, but half the time I feel like I’m winging it and just hoping no one notices.”
I tilt my head. “That’s pretty relatable.”
Her gaze snaps back to me. “Your turn.”
I make a show of thinking, tapping my chin. “Hmm…something real.”
“Don’t stall,” she warns, pointing at me.
“Or what?” I tease.
“Or I’ll…” She pauses, then grins. “I’ll tell Logan you secretly love these parties and think he could go even bigger.”
I laugh. “I hate them. I even called the cops once and turned him in for a noise complaint.”
Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. “You did not.”
“I absolutely did.” I lean closer to her, my gaze dropping briefly to her mouth again.
Her breath catches, just barely, and her hands tighten against the railing behind her. “You done stalling yet?”
The air between us shifts. “Something real, Harrison,” she whispers. “Unless you’re too scared.”
I take a half-step closer, my voice low. “Scared? Of you?”
She gives a small, breathy laugh. “You tell me.”
The challenge in her eyes, the way she’s not backing down—it’s the final push I need.
“You want real?” I reach up and flip my baseball cap backward, slowly leaning closer to her. “I really, really want to kiss you.”
Her sharp inhale tells me that she wants this just as much as I do. That we’re both done ignoring what’s been building between us over the last few weeks. “Then what are you waiting for?”
I don’t wait any longer. I cup her face with my hands, closing the distance between us and gently ghosting my lips over hers.
Pulling back just slightly, I scan her face to make sure that this is okay, making sure to give her an out if she needs one.
“You call that a kiss?” she whispers teasingly, her breath playing across my jaw.
I chuckle deeply before bringing my mouth back to hers.
This time, there’s no hesitation.
The moment our lips meet again, it’s like everything that’s been simmering between us finally ignites. Her hands slide up my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of my T-shirt as if she needs to anchor herself. I tilt my head, deepening the kiss slowly, savoring the way she melts against me.
Her lips are soft and warm, moving in perfect rhythm with mine.
It’s not rushed or messy—it’s deliberate.
Intense. Like we’re both silently admitting what words haven’t managed to say yet.
My thumbs trace gentle circles along her jaw, memorizing the shape of her face.
She exhales against my mouth, and that little sound that escapes her undoes me completely.
I angle her closer, my hands sliding to the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair. She responds instantly, pressing up onto her toes, eliminating every last inch of space between us. The world blurs.
It’s just her.
Her heartbeat thudding against my chest. Her breath mingling with mine. Her lips that taste faintly of mint and something sweet I can’t quite name.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard, and I bring my forehead to rest against hers.
“Now that,” she whispers, voice trembling with a mix of laughter and something real, “was a kiss.”
My chuckle is low as I grin, brushing my thumb across her swollen bottom lip.
After a few more minutes outside, we head back into the party. For the rest of the night, she stays right by me, my hands around her waist or fingers wrapped around hers.
I’ve never felt super comfortable with PDA, but I couldn’t care less right now. Touching her, feeling her next to me, makes me question why I ever felt that way in the first place.
Yeah. Definitely something real.