to live for the hope of it all.

Chapter 34

October 29th, 2023

"And how the blood rushed into my cheeks,
So scarlet, it was maroon..."

Bailey

"Well isn't this cute?"

At the sound of my grandfather's teasing voice, I stirred and pushed my head into the warm pillow underneath me.

The warm pillow that was moving. Breathing actually.

"You can thank me later, no rush."

Opening one eye, I found my grandfather standing over where I laid on the sofa before following his line of sight.

Oh god.

Beckett and I were cuddling.

Right in front of my grandfather.

Beckett had cuddled me first.

Oh god.

As if I had just been burned, I shot up from where I laid against him, but I didn't get very far with his arm still wrapped around my waist.

My cheeks were burning drastically and I turned to my grandfather with a glare. I looked back at Beckett, who still slept peacefully, and then went back to glaring at Grandpa Matt.

"Why would you do that to me?" I hissed quietly.

"Did you ask him?"

"What are you talking about?" My grandfather sighed at my question, and I moved to unwrap Beckett's arm from around me.

I instantly missed the warmth of being pressed against him as I moved to slowly stand up. I watched as his eyelids fluttered and he groaned softly as I adjusted the blanket back over him before pointing to my grandfather to go into the kitchen.

"Did you ask him why he apologized last night?"

Why would I do that?

"No! I don't want to know."

That's a lie. I did.

I wasn't sure what to believe anymore after he pulled me into him, and we fell asleep like that.

"Liar," he scoffed. "So y'all didn't talk at all? How did y'all end up in that position then?"

I have no idea. I hadn't been expecting it either.

Remembering how Beckett had pulled me into him had my stomach doing somersaults. I felt like I had no time to prepare myself as he adjusted the blanket over us.

I waited for him to get uncomfortable before pushing me away and apologizing like he did last night, but then he didn't. And after a while, I decided to take my chance by adjusting to be more comfortable and I felt him tense. I apologized and pulled back, waiting for him to say those words again.

"Sorry about that."

But then he pulled me back into his embrace and pulled my leg back over his, and left his hand on my knee.

It wasn't something I should be overanalyzing, because it probably wasn't as big of a deal to him as it was to me.

But when his thumb started tracing circles into my skin, it took everything in me not to tip my head up and press my lips to his. I couldn't even pinpoint what part of the show was at, because my entire being was burning with the continuous stroke of his thumb and palm.

I was warm all over, but I wouldn't have changed anything. The arm he had wrapped around my waist made me feel secure from where I fit against his body perfectly. It was ten times better being in his arms than wearing his sweatshirts, but I still wasn't opposed to either. But if I had to pick, it would be the first option.