A/N: Fun fact; this is officially the longest chapter in the story, so.. Enjoy! ;D
You had wanted to run.
You had wanted to do what you did a few weeks ago.
And you almost did.
Almost took that first step that would no doubt lead to a second, and a third, and a fourth, out of Chloe's childhood bedroom, out of her parents' house. You wouldn't know where to start, but you'd find him.
You watched the tears stream over Chloe's face, traveling from the side of her nose, over her cracked lips to her chin until they fell and hit the floor. Every, single one louder than the one before. She was quiet and so were you, but the room was in ruins and your insides in chaos.
You remembered quickly the last time this happened. Where you felt helpless and angry over whatever hurt the girl. In that case, it had been a person causing her pain, so it was easy to focus on that.
This time, you're not so sure.
She's crying, yes. But she doesn't look visibly upset other than the tears she's trying to hide from you. She looks strangely at ease, half at peace and in pain at the same time.
You have to force yourself to act fast, whatever that act may be. You do a quick fun through what you know. You know that Chloe's very much –maybe too much- in contact with her emotions. You know that she's shed tears over things you'll never understand. You know she was mad when you left the room to go find Hannah after what she did. You know she wouldn't want you to leave.
You know you don't want to leave.
Your feet move and you collapse your body into hers with more force than intended, but the act was determined and you wanted to make sure she felt that.
You wish you had a way with words for situations like these. Where you could at least be a normal person for once and ask her what's wrong, ask her what happened and why she's crying. But you're unable to handle her current state as it is, unable to help or comfort her.
You wonder if you made the right decision.
If you would be more of service if you left. If her pain were to fade if you were kicking her ex-boyfriend's ass right now. If somehow that would be better than your arms around her waist and your silence.
But she hugs you back. Her breathing evens out and then she pulls away. She explains why she's crying and you can only focus on the small smile that tugs at her lips.
Maybe you did make the right decision after all.
You learn the cause behind her tears and even though you think there's more to it, you don't pry. Instead, you let her tell you what she wants you to know. And part of you just wants to push her into the mattress and kiss her until she feels okay again, but you know you can't do that.
You can't dismiss her feelings like that.
The thing that makes Chloe Beale so beautiful, is that she feels everything so intense. You like the good parts, her excessive laughter, flirting, the girl's cheerfulness. But you can't just have that. It also means you have to let her feel the bad parts, the things that make her cry and hurt, even if you would do anything to keep those things away from her.
So you keep your hands to yourself and you listen.
"You're like, perfect."
You can't help the sarcastic snort that escapes you. "Beale, I came this close to leaving." You say with your hand up in the air, your index finger and thumb barely touching for good measurement. You let your arm fall back on the bed and Chloe immediately takes advantage of the new found closeness of your hand.
"But you didn't. And I'm not just talking about now. I mean, this whole trip." Chloe says while her thumb absentmindedly caresses the side of your index finger.
"Well, pretty sure you made it fairly easy for me." You remember how much the girl has put up with, from the way you reacted to her confession to your continuous mood swings.
Chloe laughs and turns to her side to look at you. "Yes, because having to meet my entire family, hearing that I love you and having kids constantly bugging you is easy for you."
You have to swallow hard at the words she's now used twice.
"Can you just accept the compliment, Becs?"
"Fine, fine. So I'm perfect." You exaggerate with disgust in your voice.
Chloe moves even closer and somehow ends up partially lying on top of you. Her eyes are dark and are showing a hint of lust. You wonder when she let go of the hurt to go back to her usual state of mind.
"Don't look at me like that!" You speak in a groan, annoyed that one simple look can make your body feel so heavy and aware of its parts. "I have to finish the mix I promised Kevin I'd make, and by finish I mean start, because I haven't done anything this entire time we've been in Kansas. So get that sexy look off of your face, Beale." Your right hand tries to pull your laptop case onto the bed, but that requires more muscle strength than Chloe allows you to have with her hand firmly wrapped around your wrist.
"What about finishing what we started earlier?" Chloe whispers in a low voice before placing her teeth at your skin and biting your jaw.
"That-" You forget the rest of your planned sentence when her body shifts on top of you and her thigh lands between your legs. "Before, I had a weak moment." You're able to say when you've brought your mind back to focus. "We will finish that when we're back in our own place tomorrow."
Chloe's mouth leaves your skin, but other than that, she doesn't move. Her eyes, still darkened, stay locked on yours until you see the hint of smugness pulling at her lips. "Alright, Becs." She says with a huge smile. She pecks your lips before jumping off the bed. "Play me something."
You have your laptop open and ready within seconds, so instead of connecting the machine to your headphones, you let your work echo through the room.
Too focused on your laptop screen and the task at hand, you hadn't noticed Chloe going into the bathroom or exiting it again. But something pulls your attention to the girl and you feel your mouth hanging open instantly. "What are you doing?"
Chloe's crossing the room in nothing but heels and underwear you're pretty sure wasn't what she had on earlier, the red lace material hugging her hips and covering her chest, or at least a part of it, leaving you to almost drool at the sight. The girl jumps on her drawer and swings her legs to the music, her head dancing from side to side with her arms up to make the view perfect. "I'm dancing, Becs!" She yells over the music as if that's the part you were questioning her about.
"I see that." You say a little too soft for the girl to hear, aware of how much you actually see.
There's a lot of skin to admire, but weird enough, your focus stays at the parts of the girl that are covered, or at least have been tried to cover up. The lingerie is see-through, exposing too much and not enough at the same time. You can see most of her chest through the material, but you can't see the woman's nipples, although you can easily imagine them after having seen them so many times before.
Your eyes shift to where the girl's thighs meet the fine fabric and how the underwear seems to have been made just for her. They hug her hips tightly, the holes in the material exposing the soft patches of skin that captivate you better than anything else ever could.
Suddenly everything feels like it's moving in slow motion. Chloe's still sitting on her dresser, her legs swinging back and forth, counter to each other, her body dancing, but it seems slower to you. You only now notice how your hands are gripping the sheets and you haven't moved an inch since you've laid eyes on the girl.
Your body feels heavy. It feels like you've turned to stone, unable to comprehend or act on what this girl is doing to you. You follow your friend's movements for what feels like a few more minutes, but what is probably just a second or two, and then you're up.
You're off the bed and on your feet. It feels like your mind is having some sort of technical malfunction, because you're in between Chloe's legs before you're able to mentally grasp the fact that you've crossed the room.
But a second later, the glitch in your head is gone and you can see things clearly. Chloe's body on top of the drawer close to yours, your hands around the girl's neck and you can feel her knees touching the side of your body. She's looking at you with dark pupils, her teeth biting at her bottom lip and patiently waiting for you to lose the fight.
"Fuck it." You whisper before pulling her in by the neck and kissing her roughly. You can't for the love of it remember why you ever said you wouldn't have sex with this girl everywhere.
Your hands slide over Chloe's body until you've reached the red fabric that's touching the places you're eager to touch. You play with it, trying to engrave in your mind what it feels like between your fingers while lust within you grows and eventually forces you to be impatient.
"Thought you wanted to wait until tomorrow, Becs." Chloe giggles against your lips as she hooks her legs around your body and you can feel her heels digging into your butt. "Aren't you afraid of getting kicked out? That I'm too loud?"
You move your hands underneath the girl's butt and you lift her off of the drawer to drop her on the bed with you landing on top of her. "Do you want me to stop?" You groan while shoving the girl's arms above her head and you take a second to admire the view. A gorgeous girl lying in lingerie underneath you, her lips already damaged due to your mouth and her chest heavily taking in the air.
"I never want you to stop." She flirts while her teeth bite at her bottom lip again, fully aware of what that does to you. "Besides, this just means I've won." She says arrogant as she lifts the shirt off of your body and you unbutton your own pants while you're at it.
"I don't know." You say doubting, your eyes wandering unashamed over the girl's body before you let your hands help. One travels upwards while the other moves south, pinching and scratching skin where you can, making the girl underneath you squirm with your actions. "I think I might be the real winner here." You say confident as the girl's moans fuel you.
Your hand reaches the underwear and you slip underneath it easily, your two fingers sliding between Chloe's folds in an attempt to tease her, but the girl's hips jerk up at the touch and chase your fingers, wetting your index and middle finger almost entirely.
Now that you're aware that she doesn't need teasing, you accept her offer and set up a pace. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. A pace she has trouble following and she eventually settles for just rolling her hips at the second and fourth count.
After a few minutes, the girl even struggles at that speed and by the time she just arches into you at the fourth count, you know exactly what that means and it makes you work even faster until the girl's body freezes underneath you and you have to kiss her hard to be able to swallow away her cries that would otherwise bounce around the entire house.
Chloe's legs still twitch, her hips and thighs spasm and her body's still tensed, but you just massage her through her high until the muscles underneath your hand start to loosen up again and they reinstate the access you had to the girl earlier.
This time you start at a slower pace while you work your mouth over Chloe's chest and neck. It's not until she's able to kiss you back that you move the hand between her legs a little faster. She moans and pants and begs, for nothing specific, but you understand her request. You push through the aching muscles in your lower arm, -and the aching muscles between your own legs- until you've pushed the girl over the edge again.
"Jesus, Beca." It's all she's able to say after her body collapses on the bed again.
She's beautiful, you think to yourself. The way she's lying there, exhausted and worn out, with her hands tangled in her own hair while she tries to get her breathing evened out. Beautiful.
You connect your mouth to the girl's exposed and stretched out neck while your hand pushes once again against her walls, but Chloe works fast and before you know it, you're the one on their back while your friend hovers over you with a predatory smile plastered to her face. You don't mind being the prey in this situation.
She flips her hair to one side while she studies your face. "My turn." Chloe says as she sucks her bottom lip into her mouth. Her eyes stay on you as she places herself between your legs. You lift yourself up by your elbows to watch, but as soon as she makes contact with you, you lose all control over your muscles and you fall back into the mattress, fully surrendered and handed over to Chloe.
It doesn't take long until you feel the hot blood rising from your feet to your thighs and it swims through your stomach before pleasure drops lower and lower and eventually takes over completely.
Chloe's mouth connects to every bit of skin on your torso while you try to regain yourself. By the time you do and you open your eyes, she's right in front of you, smiling devilishly and satisfied before she kisses you softly.
"Why didn't we do that three days ago?" You pant when Chloe allows you to breathe.
The girl just laughs while her forehead rest against yours. "You tell me, Beca." She whispers smug.
You stay in bed with Chloe on top of you for a little while longer until she tells you she'll leave you to work and she gets dressed to spend her last night of the vacation with her family. Since you really do need to have at least one mix ready for Kevin, you stay behind in the room with your headphones on and you tell yourself to hurry, so you can join your friend downstairs.
Except you're disturbed by Chloe's brother only minutes after she's left, preventing you from completing your work as fast as you normally would, because he's asking questions and wants you to explain to him what it is you do exactly.
John's annoying, but you're also appreciative of his interest in your work, so you let him stay and watch while you mix.
"Can I try?" John asks after watching you for several minutes.
"You wanna mix?" You ask suspicious, but the boy nods and stretches his arms, so you hand him the equipment and let him have a go at it.
He turns out surprisingly okay. He was awful at his first try, but he picks up quick, he listens when you give him advice and he works with that.
"That is so much harder than it looks." John says as he hands you back the laptop. "But it's awesome!"
"Yeah, you're quite good, dude." You say as you work fast to adjust some things here and there in his mix and then you let him hear it, explaining what you did to make it sound better.
"Wow, that is sick! You're really good at that."
"Mind if I use it for my set list?" You ask and the boy turns into a human bouncing ball within the blink of an eye. Before you can register what's happening, he throws his arms around you and skips out of the room.
You didn't mean anything by it. He just picked the right songs and you think they could sound good together.
You pick up with what you were working on before the guy interrupted you. A new set list for next weekend. Kevin has been bugging you for new tracks for a few weeks now and you know it's time, because December is arriving soon and every DJ knows what that means. It's possibly the biggest non-competition of the year; the fight for New Year's Eve.
Kevin told you about the man who got the gig last year. Apparently some important people saw him play and it launched his career. It's literally a make or break moment for the person who gets it. And even though you consider Kevin more of a friend than a boss, you know he's fair and honest and he won't give you that night if there's someone better or if he thinks you aren't up for it.
Which is why you have to show him you are.
Kevin has great DJs working for him, but he also knows a lot of people from other clubs who would love to play the New Year's Eve show in his club. It's kind of the event of the year for Kevin's club. Apparently, there's even a guest list and you can't come in unless you're on that. It's this huge happening and Kevin has talked about it excessively and happily.
So it's not just about you beating the other DJs and getting to play on a night like that, it's also to make Kevin proud of you and help him make it the best New Year's Eve ever.
But you'd have to work for it. You have to earn it. And you want to earn it, but you just can't seem to concentrate right now. Music has always been about beats and flows to you. About the way a song builds and how it progresses. About timing and precision. About everything measurable within music.
So why are you paying attention to the lyrics right now?
Lyrics never meant anything to you. They are unimportant aspects of a song. Surely, you are aware of them and you can work with them, as much as possible. You can speed them up, cut them in pieces, loop them, slice them, crush them. You can do anything you want with them. But you just never really notice words in a song, never care about them, never feel anything for them.
Now, in search of songs to use, you only hear words being sung while beats fall to the background. They remind you of Chloe. Even though the songs contain details you have never experienced with your friend, they still make you think of her.
God, you're stupid.
You're a DJ. You can't just ignore beats and trade them for dumb words with no meaning. You try to justify it with the fact that you've just been intimate with her and she's still on your mind, but you don't know if that excuses it all.
Chloe's been finding her way into your mind more and more by the day. Especially during this small vacation, where you've had minimum time apart from her. That made it easy to ignore the fact that she's on your mind so much, but it truly hits you now.
Nothing has ever distracted you from doing your work. Chloe hasn't even been able to do that while being in the room, the only exception being her in heels and lingerie earlier this evening, but now she's doing that from a distance.
Although you don't know if that's true. She has distracted you from mixing before. A simple glance as she would enter your peripheral vision, a roll of the eyes as you felt her smiling at you. She has been able to take your eye off of your work before, but never to this extent. Never to the point where you couldn't focus anymore.
You don't know how to feel about that. You don't know how you feel about anything regarding Chloe, actually.
But you're not running out the door. You're not fleeing the state or doing anything to push this girl away from you, even though she's inhumanly close. You think that's a good sign, despite the fear you feel over staying with her, you couldn't possibly see yourself walking away from that girl.
Whatever that means, you'll figure out later. First, you have to finish this damn set list.
Your plan to work for an hour and then join Chloe and her family downstairs has flown out the window the moment you let your mind wander into the direction of you and your friend.
So lost in thoughts, you hadn't even seen the girl come into the room. Which is inexcusable since you've placed yourself on the floor literally facing the entrance of the girl's old bedroom, but somehow your eyes are glued to the screen while your mind is a million miles away, not able to register anything that's happening outside of your head.
"Who came in here and stole your candy?" Chloe asks as she places herself next to you and rests her head on your shoulder.
"What?" You say confused as you remove the headphones from their place.
"You look like an angry five year old, Becs." Chloe giggles as she shifts, her body slightly turned towards you, her knees pushed together and her arms pressed to her chest, her hands holding onto each other while lying cutely underneath her face as she looks at you.
You feel something flutter through your chest and because of the time you've just spent thinking about the girl, you have a hard time ignoring the feeling.
You look back at your laptop screen and you're reminded of your incapacity tonight. You don't even have five decent songs and you're not at all happy with the ones you have. You rub your eyes in annoyance while you feel Chloe's hand traveling over your abdomen.
"That bad?"
"I don't know what's wrong with me tonight. I can't seem to focus." You say honestly and annoyed at yourself.
"Maybe you're coming down with something. You haven't been feeling well, right?" Chloe's hand disappears from your stomach and a fraction of a second later, you feel her on your forehead, then at your right cheek before she moves back to your forehead.
"I'm fine." You mutter, but you don't move you head away from her touch.
You have been feeling off, for sure. But now that you've started to listen to thoughts you've been suppressing for too long, you're not sold it's the flu you've caught.
You've been having trouble sleeping, your stomach's been aching at times and you haven't been eating as much as you usually do. The exception being the Thanksgiving dinner, because nothing could stop you from devouring that food.
When you look into Chloe's ice blue eyes, you think you've found the bacteria behind your infection, the aggressor to your health, the root of your illness.
"You should try again tomorrow." Chloe says as she picks up your laptop and puts it on the floor next to her, throwing her legs over the now empty space on your lap. "Maybe you'll feel better by then."
You doubt it.
"Maybe." You say instead, your hand trailing over the girl's thigh while you wonder if you should say something. You wouldn't even know what to say, but you wonder if you should.
Usually, or ninety-nine per cent of the time, Chloe's the one that's able to communicate her feelings with you. She does so, sometimes with her words –very confronting words-, and sometimes with just her smile or her eyes.
And though there's been a lot of new information shared from Chloe's side during this stay in Kansas, she hasn't initiated the conversation yet. You've learned she loves you. You've learned the deal you made is gone. You've learned she doesn't want anyone but you, whatever the hell she means with that.
You've learned a lot, except for what it is you have with your friend. And you would expect Chloe to be the first one to bring that up, and you think she would if she'd have the same revelation you had tonight, but it seems perhaps you've beaten her to it.
So now you're left with the question if you should start that conversation. What would you even say? What would you even want?
Well, you want her. It took you a few months, but you've finally figured that one out.
She's gorgeous. That's something you had known from the first time you laid eyes on her. But she's also smart as hell, she's passionate, compassionate, kind and honest. Her positivity radiates off of her like a light bulb in a dark room. And you don't know how you used to get through the day without that light bulb, but you don't think you can go without it from this day forward.
You don't think you want to.
"You'll get it done, Becs. Even the best have bad days. I bet even that Martin Ferrix guy has days he can't function."
"Garrix. Martin Garrix." You correct while laughter escapes you. You appreciate her words, though. You had been quiet for a while, she must've thought you were thinking about your work.
If only she knew.
You spend the rest of the late evening with the girl's parents and siblings in the living room. There are board games and snacks, and it's kind of an alright night. You team up with the men of the family, but it turns out Mr. Beale is awful at Monopoly and you end up losing to Mrs. Beale and her daughters.
John starts to blame you for losing due to lack of competitivity, which is not the case. You played fierce and you don't like to lose, but perhaps you could have been a bit harder on Chloe instead of turning a blind eye whenever she landed on one of yours.
It was fun, because she knew what you were doing, so she'd look up to you with that superior smile but with eyes that search your soul. Her face grew hypnotizing and you decided to sacrifice the game for a chance of getting put in a trance state like that every round.
"It's not Beca's fault!" Sarah stands up for you.
"She was simply distracted." Lucy says as she rests her head on Chloe's shoulder while Sarah copies the action and takes the other one. The three of them look charming, teasing and smug, but nonetheless adorable. Instead of joining the conversation, you keep your silence while studying your friend's face attentively. You don't care if it makes the two sisters laugh. You only care about the smile spreading over Chloe's face.
"I know she checked her phone twice, but that's not what made us lose the game. She should've played tougher." John says devastated.
A second of silence passes before the three girls all burst out in laughter and even you can't help but smile over the ignorance and innocence of this boy. "I could throw something through the window?" You pitch to heal John's pain.
"We'd prefer you didn't." The parents speak in sync while entering the living room with even more drinks and snacks.
"Another round?" John asks hopeful, but the sisters all start to whine and scatter out.
Chloe hugs her mother and father and you know what cue that is.
"Beca?" John speaks surprised as you, too, rise to your feet.
"Sorry, dude. That was three hours of my life I am never getting back."
Mr. Beale tells you to have a good night's rest for the long trip back tomorrow and Mrs. Beale whispers she'll make some more chocolate chip cookies in the morning, to which Sarah and Lucy yell their disagreement from the top of the stairs.
You follow Chloe up the stairs, and this time you're the one who gets to look smug at the girls.
/
"You totally let me win." You tell Beca when you've made it up the stairs with her and you've passed your sisters who looked slightly angry at your friend and her cookie deal with your mother.
"I didn't. Technically, we lost because your dad threw a four where we needed either a three or a five." Beca says matter-of-factly, but her lips tuck at her straightened smile and you can see that she's enjoying it.
Instead of entering your room, you rest against the whole of the door and examine Beca's face. She looks peaceful and carefree, the opposite of how you found her in the room a few hours ago. The wrinkle in her forehead so deep, you thought it might implode on itself because of the pressure it was under. She was visibly annoyed over the fact that she couldn't get her work done, which you understand. Beca is a perfectionist when it comes to her mixes.
What you don't get is why she's no longer agitated. You had figured that would last a little longer. Maybe even until she would get her work done.
"What's gotten into you?" You ask the girl in front of you who doesn't even seem to mind standing out here instead of entering the room. She's just patiently waiting.
"What are you talking about?"
"You're so calm."
Beca simply shrugs, the way you've come to know so well, yet it still makes you smile. You open the door you were leaning against and allow yourself and your friend inside.
"I'm gonna give Aubrey a call." You say as you search through your phone for her name and number.
"Then I'm going to be anywhere but here." Beca states with a sly smile before throwing a towel over her shoulder and going through her bag to look for clean clothes.
Your phone connects with Aubrey before Beca's been able to leave the room, and you immediately spot a perfect eye roll as your best friend's voice appears loudly out of the phone in hand.
"Beca's here, too. Becs, say hi."
Beca tries to silently sneak past you to disappear into the bathroom, but you're able to beat her to the door and you keep a stretched arm out until she caves.
"Hey, Coach. How's camping?" Beca speaks forced with a death glare thrown at you. You just smile brightly back at your friend who obeyed your request.
"We're not camping, Beca. It's a luxurious cabin in Tennessee. I wouldn't expect you to understand the difference."
Beca's eyebrows drop low in confusion as her mouth slowly opens to respond to the insult, but instead of having the two of them fight over the phone, you quickly push Beca into your bathroom. "Okay, Beca's gonna shower now. Say bye!" You drag the final word out until Beca's angry face is hidden behind the closed door and you drop down on your bed with the phone resting on your chest while you talk to your best friend.
Aubrey went to Tennessee with Stacie over the Thanksgiving break. They rented a cabin in a park and have spent a few days there. She tells you about the park and the things the couple did over there, and it honestly sounds great but you're currently more interested in the running water you can hear from a few feet away and who's standing underneath it.
"Tell me about Kansas. How did Beca ruin Thanksgiving? Let me guess, there was at least one physical fight."
You snort and laugh at your best friend's words. "No, it's been great. My parents love her, Luce and Sarah adore her, I think John has a weird, friendly obsession with her, but-"
"David likes her?" Aubrey interrupts you, questioning your words for sincerity.
"Yeah, he's crazy about her. They get along great."
"And there have been no fights?"
"No, Bree!" You say slightly insulted but with a laugh nonetheless. "The only thing she's been messing with is my head." You confess with the notion that the water is still running and Beca's unable to hear you.
You talk about Beca for a while and Aubrey's supportive, but also hesitant. She still thinks the worst of your friend, no matter what great words you spill over her.
When the water gets cut off, you change the topic to just your family and your days back in Kansas. You tell her you've run into Ted, but you keep the details to yourself.
Beca reenters the room in sweatpants and a shirt, her wet hair a few shades darker than it usually is as it stains the fresh shirt she has on.
"Still?!" Beca hisses as she drops down next to you and sighs when you shrug, all the while Aubrey continues to talk, unaware of whatever's happening.
Your best friend chats on about something. With Beca next to you, it's easy to get distracted. Especially when the girl in question is aware of that and uses that to her advantage.
Beca bites your earlobe, then your jaw until she moves on to your neck. It makes you giggle, but you can still manage to talk to your best friend, nothing more than agreeing words, because Aubrey does most of the work.
It gets harder to control yourself when Beca takes the phone from your chest and replaces it on your pillow. She moves on top of you, still kissing and biting your neck while her hands sneak under your shirt.
You try to push the girl off of you, or at least get some distance between her mouth and your skin, because controlling yourself gets harder and harder to do.
"Beca, stop it." You whisper quietly, but you don't sound all too convincing and you know it.
"Hang up the phone." Beca whispers back before capturing your lips with her own, kissing you slow and passionately, her hands heating up your ribs underneath your shirt.
"Chlo? What's going on?"
Suspicion raises Aubrey's voice and you're quick to pull away from Beca. "What do you mean, Bree?" You say innocently as you run your fingers over your wet lips, earning a smirk from Beca at the act.
"Don't act stupid with me, Chlo. You can't fool me. Is Beca in the room?"
"No!" You don't know what causes you to lie, but you can already tell it's not very convincing.
"She is. I can't believe you're making out with her while you're on the phone with me. You called me, Chloe!"
You try your hardest not to let a laugh escape, your lips sucked into your mouth and your eyes pressed closed, but it's just too funny.
"At least I had the decency to ask Stacie to give me a minute. We will be talking about this tomorrow, Chlo."
The call ends after that and you're relieved you can finally let go. Beca and you burst out in laughter at the exact same time.
"Wait, hold on. Does she know?" Beca asks while taking her original spot next to you on the bed.
You completely forgot Beca doesn't know you told Aubrey about your deal and even a little more than that. "It slipped me once." You say apologetic, your eyes searching Beca's, but she seems relaxed.
"I guess it's a surprise you didn't slip up more." Beca scoffs.
"What's that supposed to mean?" You act insulted.
"Nothing! Just that you talk a lot, you know. Like, all the time. You never stop."
In one subtle move, you take a hold of one of the pillows on your bed to smack it into your friend's face. Apparently, she saw it coming and she jumps off the bed before you're able to get a hit.
"Don't be rude!" Beca chuckles with her index finger pointed at you, her dark eyes glitter with joy.
You shake your head and you feel the need to hide your face in your hands, because Beca smiling and acting adorable does things to you, both visibly to your face as inside of your chest.
"Oh, cool!" Beca yelps as she jumps back onto the bed with a deck of cards in hand. "Wanna play?" She asks, but her hands have already started to shuffle them, so you don't think you have much of a choice.
"Are you wanna let me win again?" You stretch out your leg to be able to poke her with your foot from across the bed.
"I'm gonna kick your ass."
You play a series of different games and Beca wasn't wrong. She's been mercilessly beating you in every round of every game. Right now, you're forced to watch her greedy hands try to slide all the poker chips towards her side of the bed.
"Okay, what's next?" The girl in question asks contently, all of the game's chips resting around her legs and some held tight in her hands.
"I don't wanna play anymore." You pout in annoyance. You liked it when Beca let you win, but card games were never your strong suit and you're being slaughtered here. You should have picked another fun activity for the night.
"Oh, come on. I didn't catch you for a sore loser." Beca says with a satisfied and growing grin on her face. "Actually, now that I think about it.. Yeah, you totally do."
"No one likes to lose." You mumble while your hands pull at the sheets underneath you.
"But you do it so well." Beca's voice sounds teasing and when you look up, she even throws you a wink. Who knew your friend had a flirty side to her? Apparently it only comes out at card games.
Beca starts to shuffle the cards and she places two cards, open, in front of you while she keeps one of hers closed. "Fine, but can we at least make this a little more fun?" Yours show a six and five, so you tap your index and middle finger to the mattress.
"I don't know, Beale. I'm already having a lot of fun." Beca's smile is huge and annoying, but nonetheless beautiful. She puts another card openly next to yours and a red King breaks you.
You keep eye contact with the girl in front of you as you remove the shirt from your body, watching Beca's face lose its satisfaction and pride with the drop of her jaw.
"Oh, that kind of fun." She laughs when her eyes finally find yours.
You just hum and wait for the next hand. This time, you play more clever and take notion of Beca's open card as well. It's a four of clubs, so you move your hand horizontally at the dealer's raised eyebrow to which she turns her card and shows a queen of hearts. Her next one is what kills her and you end up winning with only fifteen points.
"Beginner's luck." Beca downplays as she removes her socks.
"Boring." You wink at her choice of clothing.
You didn't start this game to lose, so you keep your focus. Which is easier for you to do, because you're not really distracted by Beca's naked feet. Beca, on the other hand, has trouble keeping her eyes off of you.
Beca loses the next round, too. She rolls her eyes excessively while pushing the new sweatpants down her ankles until it drops to the floor. Instead of showing off her legs, she hides them underneath her body and sits on top of them.
Unfortunately, you got cocky and couldn't settle for an eighteen in cards. Beca's eyes drop to your pants, but you don't like to be predictable. You unclasp your bra with just one hand while the other takes ahold of the free item and you dramatically hang it above the floor before dropping it.
When you find Beca's eyes, they're glued to your chest and your confidence level grows by the second. By the time she notices your eyes, she's already blushing and she starts coughing to cover that up, making you laugh at the scene.
"I'm still winning!" She says in her defense as she regains herself. "And by the way, normal people lose the pants before the bra."
"Since when do we do anything normal, Becs?" You flirt back.
Another round starts and Beca forgets to leave one of her cards closed, so she has to begin again with embarrassed cheeks heating up. The following time goes better, but she doesn't even check her hand, instead her focus stays with you.
She doesn't see your fingers tapping on the mattress and she starts cleaning up the round without even having turned her own card. When you remind her of that, she awkwardly stumbles and puts the cards back in place to show she actually won.
"Good job, Becs." You say proud as you rise to your knees to unbutton your pants.
Beca flies from her opposite position on the bed to where you're placed, her hands both wrap around your wrists to prevent you from succeeding in your plans. "Don't." She pleads softly.
"Don't what? We're playing a game and you're winning."
"I can't win here." Beca whines before falling to her back on the bed. "I surrender." She cries out with her hands up above her head.
Your hands fall in contact with her naked thighs, the attraction impossible to ignore like two magnets in near range of each other. "Technically, you can't surrender, Becs. You're the dealer." You push yourself between Beca's legs and hover over her body to be able to watch how adorably flustered she looks from up close.
"I don't care. You win."
"I what?"
"You win."
You softly peck Beca's lips once and you immediately feel her fingers scratching over your hips and upwards on your body. "I like to win." You tilt your head the other way and kiss her lips again.
Beca's hands make their way onto your chest and she rolls your nipples between her fingers at the exact same time. "I do, too." She speaks, her voice low and raw.
Your mouths connect again and Beca switches your positions, her leg landing between yours and pressing against your center instantly. Even with the denim there, electricity shoots through your body right away and you can't stop the moan from leaving your mouth.
Beca's index finger pushes against your lips in an attempt to shut you up, but the noise is already being thrown back by the walls of the room. "Damn it, Beale. I knew I couldn't trust you." Beca says with fake anger as her lips tuck in joy.
"It's your fault." You declare matter-of-factly as you slip your hands underneath Beca's shirt to scratch her shoulder blades.
"Oh, it is? It's my fault?" Beca's eyes grow wide and her tongue sticks out between her teeth. "Because I didn't know that this-" She pushes her thigh harder into you and again you're unable to prevent the vibration in your throat to exit your mouth. "-causes that."
Beca's smile is annoyingly arrogant, but cute at the same time. Still, you have to wipe that off of her face. "I think you know exactly what you do to me." You lift your hips off the bed and push yourself against the length of her thigh, exaggeratingly sighing and panting at the action.
"Oh my God, are you serious right now?"
Beca's hovering over you and doesn't move her body, so you continue to ride her leg and massage your own breasts while breathing extremely heavy. "Oh, Beca, yes, right there, yes, yes!"
"I fucking hate you so much." Beca snorts and shakes her head above you, but she keeps her eyes on you, following every movement of your hands and hips.
You continue to make ridiculous sounds and Beca continues to laugh at you until you also can't keep it together anymore.
"Don't stop now, I was just getting into it." Beca jokes as she pins your hands to the bed above your head.
"Yeah, does that turn you on?" You feel lust and desire take over once again.
"I mean.." Beca says doubtful as she rolls her eyes to the side, but you don't allow her any more amusement or sarcasm as you crash your lips into hers, hungrily and ready.
She still tastes like the salty potato chips she had earlier tonight.
The remaining clothes finally disappear and meet the rest of the items on the floor. The moaning continues throughout the rest of the night, but they are muffled, obstructed by Beca's hand or shoulder or any other skin you can sink your teeth in when pleasure fires through your body over and over and over again.
Approximately every seven minutes, you had wanted to bring it up. It burnt the tip of your tongue, as heavy as it laid there for the entire car ride home.
You had known it from the moment you woke up that day. Today was going to be the day you were gonna tell Beca how you feel.
You were choosing the right time while you were in the shower that morning, but Beca came in and joined you and you were.. distracted, to say the least.
The rest of the morning was spent with your family, so that wasn't going to work either. The car ride seemed like a good idea at the time. There wouldn't be anyone but you two and there would be enough time. But then the thought popped up that perhaps Beca wouldn't reciprocate your feelings and you would be stuck in a car with her for multiple, awkward hours.
You also wouldn't want her to feel trapped in that car.
You didn't want her to feel like she had to have that conversation with you. If she wasn't ready, she couldn't easily get up and go. You'd want her to at least feel comfortable in a conversation like the one you're planning to have, and you don't think she would feel good about it in a small, moving vehicle.
The car ride was also dismissed after that realization and you decided to wait until you got back to campus.
The ride home wasn't awkward. You still chatted Beca's ears numb and there was singing and teasing, like there always is when you're around her. But it was like there was a giant, dark cloud surrounding your being, hugging you like a blanket, causing your laughs to sound fake and your smiles to hurt. You knew you wouldn't get rid of that cloud until you got the heavy words off of your chest.
Watching Beca walk through the door to your shared college dorm room was like a weight being lifted from your shoulders. You feel relieved, finally free from the chains you put on your mouth for ten hours or perhaps even longer than that.
"Beca, I think we should talk."
The words fall out of your mouth, but it doesn't take the heavy stones in your stomach with them. Beca, who's laying on her stomach on the bed, doesn't even seem to notice what conversation you're on the verge of starting.
"Now? We've just spent ten hours in a car together, Beale. I'm tired of you." Beca mumbles through the sheets as she buries her head in a pillow.
You walk over to the bed, not even finding her joke funny right now. Although it is, you just can't bring yourself to laugh about it. You're too nervous. You can't remember many moments where you felt anxious over the words you were about to say. You don't think you've ever been nervous about expressing feelings. You do it so easy, every day, sometimes towards numerous people.
But you know by now that Beca isn't like everyone else.
And that might scare you, but you won't let that stop you. You won't hold back a part of who you are, or tiptoe around her, just because she might not respond in the way other people do. But you've also learned from the last time you blurted out a series of words she wasn't prepared for.
You're going to do this, but now you're just left wondering how to start this.
"Hey. That was a joke. No need for that sad face."
You hadn't realized you'd placed yourself on Beca's bed, just like you hadn't realized the girl turned on her back to speak to you, too lost in your own head to take notice of these things. For lack of any responsive words, you smile and place yourself on Beca's lap just to feel a sense of closeness.
Beca's hands automatically seem to fall to your thighs that are resting on either side of the girl. It calms your nerves to know that you're not the only one seeking contact.
"I just thought it's time we had a talk."
Beca's eyebrows lift playfully before her lips curl into a smile. "You couldn't have thought of this in the ten hours we were in a car together?" Her fingers absentmindedly trail over the skin just above your knees, drawing circles in opposite directions from each other.
"I didn't wanna make you feel trapped." You say almost shyly, or as close as you can get to a state of embarrassment.
"So you pin me to a bed instead?" Beca's smile is intoxicating and you can't help but laugh. "I think I had more personal space in that car, Beale."
You lean down and kiss the girl you indeed have trapped underneath you. If whatever you're planning goes south, at least you'll have the remembrance of her lips on yours and you'll be able to find peace with whatever happens.
Beca's right hand moves to the back of your neck to prevent you from pulling back and she even arches off the bed a little for better access. "We don't have to talk about this, you know." She whispers against your lips before going back to kiss you.
You have to pull back. You take your previous position on her lap, Beca's distracting lips far out of your reach, but you're in need of contact, so you let your hands rest on her abdomen. When you find Beca's eyes, it's hard to begin something that could mean the end of what you have with her right now. You have to bite your bottom lip hard to prevent anything from slipping past while you reconsider your decision one last time.
"Okay, you're freaking me out." Beca says, but she lacks the concern to match her words. She's still smiling and her eyes are following your every move. You're starting to think she's enjoying you in this specific condition.
"I like you."
The words have left your mouth in an attempt to slap the smug smile off of your friend, but now that you've heard them echo through the room, you can't bring yourself to watch Beca's reaction, scared of what her face might be showing right now. Instead, you do what's the only thing you can do in this situation and you throw the chains and barriers out of the room.
"I like you, Beca. You're only eighteen, but you have it all figured out and you work so hard to accomplish your dreams. You're amazing and beautiful and hardheaded, you never rely on anyone for anything. There's probably nothing you can't do if you set your mind to it. You're independent and strong and, beautiful."
You hear Beca laugh and you have absolutely no control in your eyes snapping up to see where the sound came from. The girl seems strangely relaxed, slightly flustered, but nothing that tells you to stop.
"And I think you like me, too. And we already determined that the deal we made no longer applies to us. I'm not saying we have to be anything, but we could figure it out. Wouldn't it be great if we could label what we have?"
Beca smiles, not at you specifically, but across the room as her eyes dart around. When they finally meet yours, they don't tell you much. Just that she's still here.
But Beca doesn't say anything as she keeps her eyes on you. As if she's waiting for you to continue, but your thoughts are racing and you don't think you'd make sense if you started talking right now. "You don't think so?" You simply ask again, but Beca just shrugs her shoulders and purses her lips in the process.
You'd start to panic if it wasn't for Beca's relaxed muscles underneath you and her positive facial features. "Beca, can you please just say something?" Your voice sounds slightly shaking, which you try to hide with a laugh exiting your dry throat. You run your hands up Beca's stomach and you try to calm yourself down with the simple fact that she's still here with you and if this truly scared her, she would have been gone by now.
"I told you I don't think we should be talking about this."
"Why? Do you not feel the same way?" You have to fight hard to swallow the lump in your throat back to nonexistence.
"No." Beca says with a small scoff as she pushes her body off the mattress and meets you in a seated position, her hands leaving your skin to be placed behind her to be able to keep her body up.
You let your arms fall around Beca's neck in lack of better and maybe more appropriate places to put your hands in a situation where you're currently being dumped. Or, not dated. Rejected, perhaps.
"Because I do feel the same way." Beca shrugs and kisses your lips before you can even process what she's just said. "Which is why this conversation is useless and I could really use some sleep." The girl falls back to the bed and rubs tiredly at her eyes, her legs shifting underneath you to try and push you off in her attempt to get some rest.
"Wait, what?" It's all you can say. Your mind is repeating the words your friend has said, but it feels like you're missing pieces and you need her to clarify. Your hands start to poke the girl's ribs when she doesn't respond, which causes her to groan in annoyance and eventually she works her way out from under you. Fearful of where those feet will take her, you can't help but jump off the bed as well and watch her leave. "Beca, what's going on?"
"Well, if I'm not getting some sleep, I need something to stay awake." The girl throws the refrigerator closed with her foot while cracking open a can of her favorite energy drink.
For once, you wish Beca would try and explain herself through her words. She stops in front of you, a hand reached out to you with the can in a grip, but you decline with a shake of the head. You could understand possibly any reaction from this girl, but this calmness that surrounds Beca throughout the room after you've explicitly told her you like her is something you have trouble grasping.
"I don't understand. Can you please explain what just happened?" You ask with your hands pressed to either side of your face, trying to hide a desperate laugh over how this has turned out.
"Well, it's simple." Beca says as she pushes herself to the front of her feet and kisses your lips. The sour taste of the drink she's just had roams through your mouth, reminding you of the couch syrup you had when you were a kid. You wonder how anyone can like something that tastes like that.
Then Beca pulls back and drops back down on her bed, taking another gulp of her drink before finally meeting your questioning eye.
"We just started dating." Beca says composed and borderline indifferent, but her eyes show that feather-light sparkle and her lips tuck upwards and spread into a huge smile the longer you stare at her.