I let out a small sigh, rolling so that I’m facing him. His eyes find mine immediately.
“Good morning,” he whispers, kissing my forehead.
“Thank you,” I whisper, resting my head against his chest.
“You never have to thank me for the bare minimum,” he says, and I take a shaky breath. I can’t cry, not again. I’ve already spent way too long crying today.
Mocha jumps up onto the bed and licks my face, making me smile.“Hey, baby,” I say, rolling onto my back, still pressed against Beckett’s side.
“What would you like to do today?” Beckett asks, kissing my shoulder. I shrug.
“I don’t know, something without service,” I say.
“Get ready and pack a bag with things you’re ok to get dirty and clothes that are comfy, maybe even a hoodie and a swimsuit,” He says, kissing my nose.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m going to take you and Mocha camping,” he says, a small smile on his face.
“Camping?”
“I think that you’re going to love it, so bring enough clothes for the weekend, and I’ll go get everything else ready.”
I’d never really been camping before. My dad had taken us once, and it was a horrible experience, so he never took us ever again.
I’d be lying if I said that a weekend with nothing but the two of us didn’t sound perfect. No people, no social media, just us and whatever memories we can create before we have to come back.
Before I know it, my feet are kicked up on his dashboard as he drives. One hand on the steering wheel, the other holding my hand.
Mocha lies sprawled out in the backseat, our bags on the floor, with our tent, cooler, chairs, and other supplies in the bed of the truck.
“Everyone smile,” I say, holding up my phone to make sure that we’re all in it before taking a cute selfie.
Once I take the picture, I look at it to make sure I look ok. Since the other two don’t have to try to look good.
“Well, two of us are smiling,” I mumble, side-eying Beckett, who smirks.
Asshole.
I huff and go to turn my body away from him. His hand grabs my thighs, and he stops me.
“No.”
“Grrr,” I imitate, trying to sound like a caveman.
His grip on my thigh tightens just slightly, but it’s enough for me to stop throwing a tantrum.
“Why don’t you ever smile? Your smile is so hot,” I say, dropping my head back against the headrest and crossing my arms over my chest like a toddler.
He rolls his eyes at me. Then he’s quiet, like he’s thinking about my question.
After a few seconds of intense silence, I crack a joke.
“I didn’t ask you to find the meaning of life, Beck,” I tease, grabbing my drink and taking a sip.
“People don’t ask guys like me to smile,” he says with a small shrug.
My joke makes me feel like a fucking idiot.
