Beyond Compare (h.e.s)

part thirteen

Oh hey guys!
Every chapter after the last one was suppose to be a sequel of sorts but I decided to cram it into one book since there aren't THAT many chapters. Just go with it! We are kinda gonna jump all over the place. Trust me k! Love ya!

o0o

"Stop doing that," Harry mutters.

I do not stop doing that—that being splashing my galoshes into the little puddles that form as the February flurries of snowflakes hit the ground and melt. "Aww, don't be a killjoy. I'm singing in the rain!"

"It's not raining and you're not singing," he replies.

I stick my tongue out at him, but since we're both crammed under the umbrella, I accidentally wind up licking his cheek. "Why are you so grumpy?"

"I'm not grumpy," he says, grumpily. "I just want to get to the coffee shop. I'm freezing."

"You should have worn galoshes," I tell him.

"Men don't wear galoshes."

"Well, you're the one complaining about your wet pants."

"I'll give you wet pants," he retorts and then grins, bad mood suddenly cleared. Nothing makes Harry happier than inadvertent innuendo.

When we get to the coffee shop, Carter and Amber are already there, discussing the movie he and Brayden saw the night before.

"So, you're telling me Death Squelch Part Six had more to offer than the first five?" Amber asks, disbelieving.

Carter nods his head. "Yup, these movies are like wine."

"They get better with age?" I guess as I sit on the arm of Harry's chair.

"Nope. Some are good and some are terrible, but either way, who cares? You're definitely going to get drunk," he replies.

"Hey, I heard a rumor they might make another Die Hard," Harry tells Carter, whose eyes widen in excitement.

"No fucking way, man! Really? Another one?! That's awesome," he says as Harry nods.

"How many times can you die hard anyway?" Amber jokes. "Dude just needs to go jack off, clearly."

I laugh, but the smile wipes right off Carter's face. "Do not insult John McClane," he growls.

"I'm just joki—"

"Do not. Insult. John McClane."

Amber and I—and possibly every woman that has ever seen Die Hard—roll our eyes.

Carter's phone beeps and he picks it up. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he says, "Oh, so Harry, I um, really need some coffee." His words are way too deliberate and stilted and it sounds strange. It's even stranger because he has a full cup of coffee in front of him.

"Hey, Carter?" He turns to me. "That thing right in front of you, with the brown liquid? That's coffee."

"Um, yeah but it's cold and I—" Carters's fumbling is interrupted by the beeping of Harrys's phone. He quickly reads it and his eyes widen.