"You look really- happy," Aubrey says suspiciously.
Beca can all but hear the lift of her thin blonde eyebrows that accompany the statement, and she snorts a little – but Chloe glares at her briefly as a silent reminder to shut up and stay out of sight, before the redhead bounces a little on the sofa cushions in the living room.
"Mhmm," Chloe nods enthusiastically, humming with barely restrained elatedness.
"Do I want to know?" Aubrey queries dryly.
Chloe grins, and beckons Beca forward with an insistent, flapping movement of her hand. Beca sighs in reply, and adds a healthy roll of her eyes for good measure – because Beca's nearly a hundred percent positive that Aubrey won't actually give two shits that Beca's in Maryland for the holidays – but Chloe is excited, and Beca guesses that it would be nice of her to indulge her.
She circles around the coffee table and unceremoniously plops herself down on the couch next to Chloe, offering a smirk and an upward flip of her hand as a gesture of greeting to her former Bellas captain.
"Look!" Chloe squeals. "Beca's here, Bree!"
"I can see that," Aubrey remarks, sounding (and looking) fairly surprised, but amused by Chloe's behavior. "Hi, Beca."
"Hey, Aubrey," Beca returns. "Chloe told me you're up in Massachusetts for Christmas?" She asks conversationally.
"I am," Aubrey nods slowly, narrowing her eyes. "My parents have a timeshare in Martha's Vineyard, so we head up here for the holidays every other year. You're in Maryland?" She asks disbelievingly, abruptly cutting to what she clearly perceives to be the chase.
"Yeah, well," Beca scratches behind her ear, shrugging uncomfortably, "Chloe's mom called and invited me, so…"
Aubrey grins, and Beca is already sure – via the same, instinctive knowledge that prevents her from approaching a baby bear in the woods with no weapon or safe place to run – that she's just going to abhor whatever the blonde is next prepared to offer.
"You missed Chloe that much, huh? That's- sweet," she smirks belittlingly.
"Aubrey," Chloe warns, "play nice. Beca was," she adds proudly.
Beca tenders a smirk of her own, proud of herself, in fact, and pleased with Chloe's recognition of her obvious attempts to be cordial with Aubrey.
Aubrey scoffs and rolls her eyes. "I wasn't being mean," she defends.
It's a lie, and they all know it is – even Aubrey, whose face pinches up a little like she's trying to recall her words, and is promptly realizing that they had emerged with more than a bit of a mocking tone, that couldn't really be justified as anything else.
"Were too," Beca huffs unnecessarily.
"Whatever," Aubrey dismisses. "How long are you there for?"
"A month!" Chloe beams, with a grin that Beca's pretty sure almost touches her ears.
Beca warms.
It's crazy that her presence can make Chloe this- happy, but it thrills Beca to know that her feelings are echoed within the redhead. She's more than happy to be here, with Chloe, and it makes her heart thump excitably against her ribs to remember that she has all of break to drown herself in Chloe's company.
"You're staying for the whole month?" Aubrey frowns. "Won't your family be upset?"
Chloe's hand reaches out to squeeze her knee, and she turns to offer a small, sympathetic smile at Beca.
"No," Beca shortly replies.
That line of conversation will not go any further. Not with Aubrey. She'll discuss it with Chloe later, if Chloe asks, but family isn't really a subject that Beca enjoys discussing, and she won't talk about it with Aubrey the-special-pain-in-Beca's-ass Posen.
"O-kay," Aubrey says, dragging out the 'o' and clearly sensing that she'd unintentionally wandered into a verbal danger zone. Aubrey gracefully – thankfully, if Beca is asked – teeters several figurative steps backward. (It's not terribly surprising, Beca supposes; while she and Aubrey don't share all that much in common, they do have mutual, complicated feelings where their families are concerned, and Beca's sure that Aubrey can understand her reluctance to talk about it better than most.) "Well, Chloe's clearly happy to have you," Aubrey saves.
"So happy," Chloe sighs contently. "It's gonna be the best Christmas ever. I just wish you could be here for it, too."
"I'll be there for New Years'," Aubrey smiles gently.
"You will?" Beca frowns.
"Aubrey always comes for New Years', Becs," Chloe giggles and bumps her shoulder lightly.
"Awesome," Beca breathes, though there's clear trepidation embedded within the sentiment.
"Don't sound so excited to see me, Mitchell," Aubrey smirks. Then she adds, "Don't worry; I'll only be there for a couple of days. You can have Chloe back right after."
Beca scowls.
"You make me tired," she asserts, still glowering at the camera.
Chloe laughs. "It'll be fine. We'll all be drunk, anyway, so you two will get along great. I'm not worried."
The promise of alcohol mildly appeases Beca. "Fine. I guess I can disarm my weapons for a couple of days," she sighs dramatically.
"Bree?" Chloe grins.
"Yes, yes," Aubrey offers a matching sigh of reluctance. "We'll behave ourselves, Chloe."
"Swear?" Chloe prods seriously.
"I swear," Aubrey rolls her eyes.
"To the aca-gods?" Chloe presses, impressively maintaining her solemn expression despite that Beca knows she's practically trilling with glee inside.
"To the aca-gods," Aubrey indulges, smiling a little and shaking her head. "As long as Beca does too," she conditions swiftly.
"I swear on every single one of your stupid aca-gods that I will be on my very best behavior, Chloe," Beca snorts derisively. "I'm gonna let you guys talk, now. Your mom's making pancakes, and I want dibs before your sisters inhale them all. I don't know how they eat so much," Beca grumbles under her breath, waving a farewell to Aubrey and padding her way to the kitchen as Chloe laughs behind her.
"Hello, girls," Leina smiles warmly at the pair, pressed together on the couch with Beca's back stationed across Chloe's lap, and her neck uncomfortably arched into the armrest, her laptop perched atop her stomach.
"Hi, Mrs. Beale," Beca returns shyly, stilling her fingers over her keyboard to look up at the woman.
It's not difficult for Beca to tell where Chloe gets her- shine from; Leina Beale is just as kind as Chloe is, with an even softer, motherly pocket where all of Chloe's playful teasing is usually housed, instead. Beca's only been in the Beale home for a few days now, but she's already very fond of Mrs. Beale.
Beca wryly thinks that it probably isn't all that surprising, given her affectionate feelings for Chloe.
"I've told you, sweetheart; Leina is perfectly fine," Chloe's mom laughs lightly. "You're so well-mannered," she shakes her head. "We don't stand on courtesy here, though. You'll learn that quickly enough, I suppose, when the rest of Chloe's siblings come back to town."
Beca's met Kylar, obviously, and she and Chloe had picked up Claire (surprisingly not a redhead, but pretty close, with a pretty strawberry blonde ponytail that drops midway down her back, most days) from the airport the day before, but Beca knows that Kayla is set to arrive sometime in the next few days, too, and Chloe's brothers – Caleb and Clinton – are due next week.
Beca's been working very hard not to confuse the faces with the names, matching pictures from numerous photo albums that have been presented to her since her arrival, but, honestly, how the fuck did Mr. and Mrs. Beale think that anything in their household would come easily with all those Ks and Cs and Ls to confuse everyone?
"Hi, Mama," Chloe smiles back, muting the television. "How was the mall?"
"Busy, as is to be expected this time of year," Leina laughs softly. "Your father and I were going to head to Jeeter's for dinner and a drink here in a few minutes. We wondered if the two of you would like to join us."
"Sure," Chloe says happily. "That sounds like fun, right, Becs?"
Beca nods agreeably, and smiles at the older woman, before frowning, and asking, "What's Jeeter's?"
"It's a bar," Chloe explains. "They have food there, too, but the atmosphere is too… bar-like to call it a restaurant," Chloe laughs. "It's fun. You'll like it, I promise."
"Okay," Beca shrugs. "Do I have time for a shower, first?"
"Of course," Leina chuckles. "We're certainly not going hungry here, honey. Take your time."
"Thanks," Beca smiles appreciatively, and saves the mix that she's working on before closing the lid of her laptop, sitting up to place it on the coffee table. "I'll go get ready, then."
Leina smiles and nods before excusing herself from the room.
Beca stands up and stretches, curving her neck with a groan as she realizes that she probably, definitely should not have kept it so uncomfortably positioned for so long. There's an ache that's settled there, and a kink that Beca really hopes some hot water will wash away.
"I'll come, too," Chloe murmurs.
Beca raises her brows and turns to face her, but the look on Chloe's face – dark, dilated blue eyes scanning the length of Beca's body and her lower lip tugged tellingly between her teeth until pink has paled into white – is enough for Beca to know exactly what she's thinking.
"Oh no," Beca shakes her head. She then hisses, "We can't- do that in your parents' house, Chloe."
"Of course we can," Chloe dismisses huskily. "I'm definitely not having you with me for a whole month without fucking you at all, Beca," she informs carelessly. "I'm pretty sure my parents are well aware that it'll be happening, anyway."
It's a fair point, Beca guesses, because she'd be lying – so, so lying – if she said that she didn't want it; that she didn't desperately long to touch every inch of Chloe's body with her fingers and take that delicate skin between her lips.
But- it's still her parents' house, and that- can't be okay.
"Chloe, I don't think – "
"I don't care," Chloe giggles. "C'mon. Let's go shower."
Beca sighs heavily, but eventually nods.
She knows Chloe, and, despite the playful giggle, Beca is more than aware that Chloe is determined to make this happen. And when Chloe is determined, a fucking nuclear bomb couldn't divert the redhead from her intended path.
Plus, Beca's resolve is only half-hearted, anyway, because she does want Chloe. Beca always wants Chloe. It's almost embarrassing – and it would be, if Beca didn't have the obvious confirmation that Chloe feels the same fucking way.
So Beca rolls her eyes at herself and allows Chloe to take her hand, pulling Beca behind her until they reach her room, where Chloe promptly closes and locks the door.
Beca supposes she should just be grateful for the individual bathrooms afforded to each member of the Beale family, because – while her desire for Chloe is unmatched by most anything else in the world – Beca would balk at the suggestion of shower sex if said shower was shared between Chloe and any of her siblings.
They're barely in the room for two seconds before Chloe's mouth is on her, insistently pulling against her lips with an instant, soft moan the moment that they connect together. The noise affects Beca more than she thinks should even be allowed, darting a sharp, unmistakable pang of want straight to the pit of her stomach that suddenly makes her feel urgent.
Beca's hands rise, one curling around Chloe's lower back and the fingers of her opposite palm threading through locks of magnificently scented red hair. Beca pulls Chloe tighter, and Chloe falls into the pressure more than willingly, shoving Beca up against the door as her body blankets over Beca's.
Beca knows she should be used to this; there must be a point, eventually, where kissing Chloe Beale ceases to be this overwhelming, after all, but if that point is ever meant to arrive, Beca's certainly not reaching it today.
"God, I missed this," Chloe breathes into her mouth, her chest rising and falling sharply with her breasts pressed into Beca's, her thigh edging teasingly between Beca's legs and gently lifting upward. "I love touching you, Becs; I love it so much," Chloe tells her, a frantic edge to her words that informs Beca that her need is matched in Chloe.
"I miss it, too," Beca murmurs in reply, grazing her lips over Chloe's cheek until she meets with her ear. "You're so beautiful, Chloe."
The redhead whines softly, but Beca can't be sure if it's the whispered admission that causes it, or the nip that she delivers to Chloe's earlobe immediately afterward.
Maybe it's the combination.
Beca isn't sure, but she also doesn't really care; whatever it is, she's determined to provoke that noise out of Chloe's chest again, and she succeeds just a moment later, when her tongue flickers out to taste the flesh beneath the redhead's ear.
"Oh, god," Chloe gasps. "Clothes. Becs, clothes. We don't- we don't have much time, okay?"
Beca flinches a little at the reminder of where they are, and the plans that they have for dinner with Chloe's parents, soon, but Chloe doesn't allow her much time to stress over it, slipping her palm up to cover Beca's stomach for just a second, pushing hard against it as she gasps again when Beca's teeth scrape over the curve of her jaw.
"Oh my God," Chloe hisses.
It takes all of two seconds, at most, before Chloe tears Beca's shirt over her head and tugs demandingly against the belt loops of Beca's jeans to pull her off of the door. Beca follows willingly, flitting her fingers down the (infuriatingly difficult) buttons of Chloe's pretty blue top with a quickness that Beca herself is mildly impressed with, given her arousal.
Chloe's hands fly to the clasp of Beca's jeans and waste no time undoing them as the redhead presses their mouths together with vehemence that might have startled Beca, if she wasn't giving it back to Chloe in spades, tonguing caverns in Chloe's mouth that Beca's quickly refamiliarizing herself with.
Their clothes are gone (haphazardly dropped, or swung to the floor of Chloe's bedroom) by the time they reach the shower. Chloe doesn't even break from Beca's mouth long enough to look at the tap, simply stretching her hand behind her and frantically twisting it until the sound of water touches their ears.
Beca's hand lifts from Chloe's waist to cradle her breast, hugging it with a little more pressure than might be considered necessary, but if the hot, needy moan that hums from Chloe's mouth and directly into Beca's is anything to judge by, Chloe doesn't seem to mind at all. The pebbling of Chloe's nipple against her palm is all the confirmation that Beca needs, really, so she squeezes it again – a little rougher – when Chloe's mouth drops to Beca's throat to take the skin there between her teeth, sucking hard against it.
"Fuck," Beca groans, holding Chloe's head against her neck with fingers that unknowingly cinch tighter around the strands of Chloe's hair.
"Shower," Chloe insists between kisses. "God, get in the fucking shower, Beca."
Ugh. Beca really needs her to stop swearing when they get like this. It's fucking hot – hotter than the flames that lick at Satan's boots, Beca is absolute certain – but Beca's body reacts to it so fiercely, and so intensely, and it always makes her feel far too wet, far too quickly.
But Beca obeys Chloe's demand, stepping into the tub with her palm strained out behind her to press against the wall, ensuring a stability that Beca's almost positive she would collapse without. Chloe follows blindly, fingers clenched hard around Beca's hips and her nails carving into Beca's flesh.
Beca barely notices that the water is scorching hot, and Chloe doesn't seem at all concerned with it, because they're hardly under the spray of the water (Chloe pushed more into it than Beca is) before Chloe drops to her knees.
"Jesus fuck," Beca hisses when Chloe lowers an open-mouthed kiss just above her bikini line, her tongue flitting out teasingly before she skips over Beca's desperate heat to layer a few sloppy kisses to Beca's inner thighs.
"I wanna taste you," Chloe groans delightfully.
It's so quiet that Beca has to strain to hear it over the whir of rushing water, but when she does, she moans and uselessly curls the fingers of her hand against the wall behind her into a fist that provides a somehow satisfying ache to her knuckles.
"God, I've dreamed of this for months, Becs," Chloe murmurs, tonguing the juncture between Beca's thigh and her throbbing sex. "I'm gonna taste you," Chloe decides.
And, motherfucker, she decides quickly, abruptly licking a trail from Beca's drenched center to her clit before Chloe moans into it, the vibrations spiraling Beca into a dark, needy place that drives her to roll her hips against Chloe's face with her hand still holding firmly in the back of Chloe's hair.
"Fuck, you taste so good, Becs," Chloe whimpers, but doesn't say much else, rubbing one palm feverishly up and down Beca's hip and side and upper thigh while the other meets beneath her mouth (settled, finally, over Beca's clit), and plunges three fingers into Beca's core.
"Oh my God," Beca grunts out, dropping her head momentarily back to rest against the tile wall, her arm still stretching (in a manner that somehow feels delicious) behind her back.
Chloe's fingers are quick and emergent, thrusting hard inside of Beca as Chloe curls the middle one in a gesture that Beca has only ever felt from Chloe alone, and it drives Beca fucking crazy.
"Jesus, don't stop, Chlo," Beca pleads, arching her hips even harder against Chloe's mouth.
"Won't," Chloe promises shortly, before suckling Beca's clit into her mouth and humming against it until Beca is positive that she's never been so close to coming without actually doing it.
But Chloe's curled finger finds the spongy flesh of Beca's inner walls, and Beca releases a quiet cry of utter completion not a second after, as her lids bunch together and a whirlwind of sensation accosts her body.
Beca swears she's never felt orgasms as powerful or as wonderful or as purely magical as the ones that Chloe provides.
She grants herself ten seconds of heavy pants to refuel her lungs before she opens her eyes and gazes down at Chloe; the redhead's eyes are dazed, and a tiny smile is curling up the corners of her mouth with seemingly hundreds of tiny water droplets cascading the length of her face.
Beca wishes she could force her thoughts to a more sophisticated level of eloquence, but the only clear notion that occurs to her is that Chloe Beale is fucking sexy as hell.
So Beca summarily yanks a couple of rough times against Chloe's hair.
It takes Chloe a moment – plainly jolted by Beca's intense reactions to her, and evidently proud of herself for provoking them – but once she understands Beca's silent request, she hastily scrambles up to her feet so swiftly that the only thing preventing her from slipping on the floor of the tub is the hand the Beca darts out to her hip to steady her.
Beca fuses her mouth to Chloe's, purring with satisfaction when she tastes herself on Chloe's lips.
"Please," Chloe whimpers. "Becs, please. Fuck me quickly," she pleads senselessly.
Beca obliges.
She's trying really hard not to think about it, but Beca knows they're crunched for time. She sweeps her hand up Chloe's ribs and back down again, until her hand meets with the almost startlingly soaked center of Chloe's entire being. She wants to thrust inside of her, but that takes longer, and Chloe's evidently ready to come right away, anyway, so Beca flattens her fingers and rubs the pads of them in a fervent pace over Chloe's clit.
"Yes!" Chloe gasps, her nails slicing into the back of Beca's neck as the words whisper humidly over Beca's cheek. "Oh god, oh god, oh god."
Beca knows she just came, but, fucking Christ, she could probably do it all over again if Chloe keeps keening like that, because it's almost enough to make Beca forget the mind-blowing orgasm that Chloe had given her before it.
She slides her mouth into the juncture between Chloe's neck and shoulder, and bites down against the cord of muscle that stretches between them.
Chloe moans, long, and unrestrained, and probably way too fucking loud, but Beca just forgets to care and focuses everything that she has on releasing Chloe from her obvious sexual torment.
"Come for me, babe," Beca rasps.
Beca doesn't know why, or how, but her words seem to grant Chloe a hard shove that her fingers alone would have taken a few moments longer to achieve. The redhead mewls out a low sound that strikes in Beca's gut, before Beca's cheeks are cradled in her palms and Chloe's lips are moving with relative calmness over Beca's mouth.
Chloe breaks away, her eyelids fluttering open and shut like she isn't sure which view is better (the sight of the fireworks flashing beneath her lids, or the sight of Beca flushed and half-damp in front of her), breathing heavily against Beca's lips.
"We're super awesome at this," Chloe puffs out eventually.
"You're super loud at that," Beca smirks. "You better hope your sisters didn't hear."
Chloe flaps her hand with an amusing mixture of both impatience and negligence, before sighing softly and folding her lips across the corner of Beca's, once more, for a lazy, gratified kiss that lingers for little other purpose than just to taste one another.
"I- still need to take a shower," Beca ventures a moment later, after allowing Chloe a sufficient amount of time to collect herself.
Chloe releases an airy sound of laughter, before teasingly muttering, "That sounds vaguely familiar to me."
It takes Beca a solid twenty minutes before she can look either of the Beale parents in the eyes without blushing, but, overall, the ride to the bar isn't all that bad. Mr. and Mrs. Beale smile knowingly like they're sure of what just happened between the two, but they don't tease or comment, and Chloe just babbles away like everything's fine, so Beca's silence is slightly less noticeable.
"Think they'd let her get away with ordering a drink?" Harper asks, grinning broadly once they're seated at a table in the bar.
"Oh, Harper," Leina scoffs lightly, "she's nineteen."
"And you look small enough to be in middle school," Chloe giggles, reaching her hand up to pinch Beca's cheek between her fingers.
Beca scowls and swats her wrist. "It'll be fine. I doubt they'll ask for an ID," she shrugs.
"Yeah, okay," Chloe chuckles, picking up her menu. "Ohh, I want nachos!" She decides instantly, before shoving her menu under Beca's, held between her fingers.
Beca rolls her eyes.
"That does sound good," Leina agrees, smiling warmly over at them. "What about you, Beca?"
"Spinach dip," Beca all but groans. "I don't know why, but I love it so much."
"That's just an appetizer," Chloe tells her grinning.
"I don't even care," Beca shakes her head. "I want it."
"Then have it, you shall," Harper booms happily.
Harper Beale, Beca has come to realize in her brief time in Maryland, is a very loud man; very kind, but that pocket of playfulness that she had earlier mused on in Chloe was clearly sewn in there by the Beale family patriarch.
They order their food when a casually dressed barman clothed in jeans and a t-shirt approaches the table, and when it comes to Beca's turn, she breezily adds, in addition to her spinach dip, "And I'll have a margarita."
Chloe snickers and clenches Beca's wrist over the table – and then promptly drops her jaw at the waiter's turned back when he merely nods and scrawls it into his notepad with a smile and a promise to return soon.
"What the fuck?"
"Chloe Elizabeth Beale!" Leina chides.
"Sorry, but- what? How did that even just happen?" She asks with wide eyes and a flexing jaw. "He even carded me!"
"She's got that attitude," Harper says, almost proudly, nodding enthusiastically.
Beca smirks and tips her head smugly in his direction as acknowledgment of the assertion.
"What?" Chloe demands.
Beca shrugs. "People don't really ask me questions. It's kinda weird, but I'm not exactly complaining."
"This is ridiculous. I don't even – "
"Hi there."
Beca brows rise, spying a relatively tall kid either around or between her and Chloe's ages, with a charming smile and silky black hair that flops messily around his ears.
"Hi!" Chloe chirps back happily.
… Because it's totally not weird for a strange boy to approach their table with Chloe's parents in attendance, Beca thinks with a snort.
Although, in hindsight, it probably really isn't weird for Chloe; they practically met in a shower, for Christ's sake, and this is infinitely less awkward than that. But still… it's definitely weird, as far as Beca is concerned – bar or no bar.
"I just- saw you from over there," the boy continues, nodding to what is presumably his table, and Beca's eyes comically widen about to the size of quarters when she realizes that the boy's directing the statement at her. Not Chloe, the obvious (and clearly more affable) choice. This kid is talking to her. "I'm Peter. I just- thought I'd stop by and say hello. I haven't seen you around here before. Where are you from?"
"Seriously?" Beca asks vacantly, narrowing her eyes.
She can practically feel Chloe vibrating with only-just-barely refrained laughter, the redhead's fingers white-knuckling around Beca's wrist and her teeth probably drawing blood out of her bottom lip.
"You're seriously doing this right now?" Beca elaborates, lofting her brows basically into her hairline.
"Yeah, sure," the kid grins confidently. "Why not? Come on, it can't hurt, right? Where are you from?" He encourages.
Beca blinks, then offers an exaggeratedly sweet smile, and says, "Well, I spent some time inside my mother's womb a while back, but, you know, I realized eight months in that it probably wasn't a suitable permanent address, and, between you and me, I think I outgrew the place."
The boy actually chuckled.
What the fuck is wrong with him?
"Dude," Beca snaps abruptly. "Go away."
He had the audacity to blink bemusedly, but the winsome grin that had moments ago seemed etched into his face slowly gave way to a frown as realization overcame him. He nods with a dark red blush and hastily scampers back to a group of fraternity-looking douchebags eagerly awaiting his return.
Harper belts out several barks of laughter, and Leina hides her own amusement behind the fingers that lift to cover her mouth, but several snickers still emerge from her, too, so Beca's momentary fear of disapproval quickly abates.
"Ohmygod, you're the worst," Chloe insists, bright red in the cheeks with the laughter that she's forcefully trapping within her chest.
"I am not," Beca argues, offended. "It's not my fault that the kid clearly has zero inclination toward self-preservation, Chloe," she frowns, but presses a smile of thanks toward the waiter when he lowers her food and drink in front of her.
"He was being nice, Becs!" Chloe laughs, finally – louder, somehow, for every second she withheld it. "And what does that even mean?" Chloe whines pathetically, clearly upset with herself for giving in to the hilarity.
"Chlo," Beca puffs out, "take a hard look at me, okay? Now, tell me: which part of my appearance stamps, 'please approach; I'm friendly,' across my forehead, huh?" Beca asks, raising her brows and batting Chloe's hand away as it reaches for a chip off of Beca's plate.
Chloe pouts. "You were mean."
Beca rolls her eyes and shoves her plate between the two of them.
Chloe claps excitedly for a moment, before snatching up a chip and scooping some of the dip onto it, promptly chomping down on it and pleasurably groaning out, "You're the greatest."
Beca snorts. "Ten seconds ago I was the worst."
"Ten seconds ago you weren't offering me your spinach dip," Chloe beams, like all is forgiven.
"Ten seconds ago I actually had spinach dip to offer you," Beca frowns, eyeing the significant crater in her bowl with a pout. "Jesus, Chloe, don't take it all," she huffs.
"… And it took the two of you a year to figure out you're in love?" Harper asks cheekily, his ensuing grin practically breaking his freaking face.
Beca scowls at him and elects not to comment.
Author's Note: Two updates in one day! Woo! I'm a writing powerhouse, today, guys. Super proud of myself. Also, this one's longer than the others, but I really imagined that scene at the end so many freaking times that I wanted to make sure I included it in this chapter. Let me know what you think! And, holy acapella, I'm blown away by the response to this story, guys. Thank you so much, and keep the reviews coming, if you like it! Or if you don't, too, I guess… but I much prefer the former! ; )