24 Hours (Wattys 2016)

Hour 17

Hour 17

(11:00 PM EST)

"I'm exhausted." Beckett complained as we clambered into his truck after the stars got too boring. "Whats next on the list to tire me out?"

"I think you are going to like this one." I say with a grin, putting the list back in my pocket.

"What are we doing?" He asks, suddenly curious. He placed the key in the ignition but didn't start the car.

"I'm not telling." I grin, unclipping my seat belt as if to get out of the car.

"You at least have to tell me where we are going." He eyes my unbuckled seat belt.

"Nope." I say, my grin spreading more. "Fire drill."

"How can we do a fire drill if there's only the two of us?" He laughs, we used to play the fire drill game with out friends so much last summer, we would stop, and everyone would jump out of the car and find a new seat.

"Just let me drive." I laughed, pushing open the car door and starting to walk around the other side of his truck, where he stopped me halfway.

"I don't let anyone drive my truck," He grinned, half teasing.

"Shut up." I laugh. "I drive your truck all the time."

"I know." Beckett laughed too. "But it always sounds so sexy, masculine and daring when they say that in the movies."

"Don't worry," I laugh. "You are plenty sexy and daring, and your masculinity is not depleted by your girlfriend driving your car."

"I don't like that word." He said softly, our hips leaning against the front of his truck.

"What word? Depleted?" I laugh slightly.

"Girlfriend." He said, looking deep into my eyes.

"Why?" I ask, suddenly serious.

"It sounds so... immature. Like it can't represent how I feel about you. It's not strong enough to show how much I love you."

I stare into his eyes, watching them watch me with so much care and passion.

"God, I love you." He says, leaning down and pressing a fiery kiss to my mouth. There is so much passion, so much love, that it almost hurts to break it. But I do, and I pull away.

"You trying to distract me from wanting to drive your car?" I ask breathless.

"Did it work?" He asked, his voice deep, his heart beat like a drum in my ear.

"Kinda." I admit, then with a gleeful smirk, I pull out of his arms and hold up his keys triumphant. "But you aren't the only one who can play dirty." I jingle his keys, showing off my keen pick-pocket skills.

"Sneaky."

I wink, and step around him, to the driver's side of the car.

****

"Harlyn, why are we at your house?" Beckett asked as I pulled into my driveway and pulled the key out of his truck.

"Here's the plan," I say, turning to him. "They are probably asleep, so what we do is we creep as quietly as we can into my house. Then we sneak into the attic, and regroup. Got it?" Beckett was giving me a weird look. "What?" I ask.

"Nothing." He grins. "Just that all that talk about me being sexy and dangerous but you win. Now, sneaking into your own house? Thats sexy and dangerous."

"Oh, shut up." I laugh. "We aren't sneaking in for what you think."

He raises his eyebrows and I shove him.

"We are going to watch ten minutes of all of our favorite TV shows on Netflix." I explain, my face flushed.

"Netflix and chill?" He laughs.

"Stop being a perv." I shove him again.

"You know I love you." He grins.

"Yeah yeah." I shake my head, and push open the door to the car.

I unlock the door, and all the lights are off in the house, so I flick the entry light on, knowing it is far enough from everyone's bedrooms for them to notice.

I lace my fingers with Beckett's and we slip up the two flights of stairs into the attic, where a couch and TV are.

We crash onto the couch, and I turn the TV on, silently flipping through shows until I find Quantic on ABC and turn to Beckett.

"Which episode?" I whisper, curling my feet under me and tucking myself into his chest.

"Six." He says randomly and I giggle.

I press the play button, and nestle further into Beckett. Life should be measured in little moments, like the ones I share with Beckett. When I'm three years into college, and whether Beckett and I are together or not, I won't remember prom, or high school tests. I will remember how Beckett and I shared all these amazing little moments that makes our relationship the best it can be. When I'm missing him this year, I will remember how we could never say a word, and be saying so much. How we could share a look and know what the other is thinking. I'll remember how his kisses are addicting, and how when I heard his heart racing I knew mine matches its pace. How his hair curls slightly at the end, and when I lace my fingers into it it's softer than silk. I'll remember how my body fit into his like we were two puzzle pieces that were made for each other.

I press my head into his shoulder, and breathe in his smell. This year I will remember how he always smells like mint, after shave, and laundry detergent. I will remember him. Everything about him. And it will be ok. We will be ok.

I feel myself smile, and I sit back, pressing a kiss into his cheek.

"What was that for?" He asked, turning from the TV to face me.

"We are going to be ok." I state.

"Do you have your doubts?" He asked.

I shake my head.

"Me either." He smiles. "I will never doubt us, not even for an instant."