Page 51 of Solitude

Beck leads me in comfortable silence to my front porch. He squeezes my hand. “You’re thinking so hard it’s hurtingme.”

“Sorry,” I huff out around a laugh. “I’m just thinking about what you said.”

“Oh, yeah?” Beck brushes a piece of blonde hair off of my face and behind my ear. “Good thoughts? Or?”

I chew my lip as my cheeks heat slightly. I don’t answer his question. Instead, I stupidly ask, “Do you want to come in?”

Beck groans. “Fuck, Winnie. Of course I do, but I can’t.”

I squeeze his hand and smile shyly. “I could come help you pack instead?”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Beck shoots forward and kisses my lips briefly then pulls me along behind him as we race toward his childhood home. We’re laughing as we cross the yard, tripping over the sprinklers in the grass, then the rise of the concrete marking the Hale’s driveway.

“Slow down!” I whisper, laughing as he stumbles overa crack in the drive. “Stop running! My legs aren’t that long, Beck!”

“Let’s go. You walk slower than Ms. Bett—oh, shit!” he shouts as he crashes to the grass, pulling me with him.

He rolls onto his back just in time to cushion my fall, and I smack my forehead on his sternum as he grunts and groans beneath me.

“Ow.”

“Shit,fuck… I think I broke my ass.”

I snort, laying my cheek against his chest. “Serves you right. Why were we running?”

“Felt like the right thing to do in the moment.”

“I hate running.”

Beck pokes my side, and I yelp. “You run practically every day.”

“Reluctantly.” I lift to look at his face, noting his closed eyes and relaxed features, like he’s enjoying just laying here together. “I don’t actually like it at all.”

He hums, and I reach a hand out to touch his brow bone just as the porch light flicks on and the front door bursts open.

“What the heck are you guys doing?” Spencer, Beck’s twelve-year-old brother, asks as he stares at us. Ben appears behind him with a cheeky grin. Spencer asks Ben out of the corner of his mouth, “Are they about todo itin the yard?”

I scramble off of Beck and to my feet, wiping the dirt and random blades of grass from my body as best as I can. Beck is slower to get up, grunting roughly as hedoes, and I have to physically stop myself from glancing at him.

The sounds he makes…

Stop, Winnie.

“Spence, bro,shut up.”

Ben laughs as Beck steers me into the house, and I stick my tongue out at him as I pass by. It’s late enough that most of Beck’s siblings are in bed already, tucked away for the night, and I internally send a thank-you to the universe for sparing me the further embarrassment.

Unfortunately, Sylvia and Drew, Beck’s parents, are still awake, sitting on the couch together with small, knowing smiles on their faces. Sylvia folds a few shirts and stacks them on the cushion beside her while Drew sips from a mug, reading a book atleast four inches wide.

“Are those my clothes?” Beck asks, scooping the laundry pile up before his mom can respond. He kisses her cheek and says, “Thanks, mom.”

She shoos him away. “Yeah, yeah. You better be going to pack. You can’t miss this flight, Beckett.”

Beck scoffs. “Don’t worry. Winnie’s helping me. We’ll be done so fast.”

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