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He has a lot of things he needs to work out on his own, and so do I. I love him, but I have to love myself more.
“It was nice, I loved it. Dakota’s apartment is really awesome, and her roommate is really nice,” Landon starts off by saying. And all I can think is that it must be so nice to have an uncomplicated relationship. Memories of Noah and me watching endless hours of movies flash through my mind; nothing was ever complicated with him. But maybe that’s why it didn’t last. Maybe that’s why I love Hardin so much: because he challenges me and we have so much passion between us that it nearly crushes us both.
After he tells me some more details, I pick up on his excitement over New York City. “So are you moving there?” I ask.
“Yeah, I think I am. Not until the semester ends, but I really want to be near her. I miss her a lot,” he tells me.
“I know you do. I’m happy for you, I really am.”
“I’m sorry that you and Hardin . . .”
“Don’t be. It’s done. I’m done. I have to be. Maybe I should come to New York with you.” I smile, and his face lights up with the warm smile I adore so much.
“You could, you know.”
I always say this. I always say I’m done with Hardin, then I go back to him; it’s an endless cycle. So in this moment, I make a decision: “I’m going to talk to Christian Tuesday about Seattle.”
“Really?”
“I have to,” I tell him, and he nods in agreement.
“I’m going to get dressed, so you can take a shower. I’ll meet you downstairs when you’re ready.”
“I missed you so much.” I stand and hug him as tight as I can. Tears spill down my cheeks, and he hugs me tighter.
“I’m sorry, I’m just a mess now. I have been since he came into my life,” I cry and pull away.
He frowns but doesn’t say anything as he heads to the door. I gather my clothes in my arms and follow him into the hallway to head to the bathroom.
“Tessa?” he says as he reaches his bedroom door.
“Yeah?”
Landon looks at me with great sympathy in his eyes. “Just because he can’t love you the way you want him to doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you with everything he has,” he says.
What does that even mean? I process his words as I close the bathroom door and start the shower. Hardin loves me, I know he does, but he continues to make mistake after mistake. I continue to make the mistake of putting up with it. Does he love me with everything he has? Is that enough? As I pull Zed’s T-shirt over my head, there’s a knock at the door.
“Hang on, Landon, I need one second,” I call and pull the shirt down to cover my stomach.
But when I open the door, it’s not Landon. It’s Hardin, and his cheeks are stained with tears and his eyes are bloodshot.
“Hardin?”
His hand cups my neck, and he pulls me to him. His mouth moves against mine before I can resist.
Chapter ninety-seven
HARDIN
I can taste my tears and the hesitation on her lips as I bring her body against mine. I press my palm against the small of her back and kiss her harder—it’s a feverish and purely emotional kiss, and I could pass out from the relief of feeling her mouth on mine.
I know it won’t be long before she pushes me away, so I take in every movement of her tongue, every barely audible gasp falling from her lips.
All of the pain from the last eleven days nearly evaporates when her arms wrap around my waist, and in this moment, more than ever, I know that no matter how much we fight, we will always find a way back to each other. Always.
After I watched her walk back into the house, I sat in my car for a second before finally growing some fucking balls and coming after her. I’ve let her slip away too many times, and I can’t take the chance of this being the last day I see her. I lost it—I couldn’t help but cry as Landon closed the door behind her. I knew that I had to come after her, I had to fight for her before someone else takes her away from me.
I’ll show her that I can be who she wants me to be. Not completely, but I can show her how much I love her and that I won’t allow her to walk away so easily, not anymore.
“Hardin . . .” she says and gently presses her hand against my chest and pushes me back, breaking our kiss.
“Don’t, Tessa,” I beg her. I’m not ready for it to end yet.
“Hardin, you can’t just kiss me and expect everything to be okay. Not this time,” she whispers, and I fall to my knees in front of her.
“I know, I don’t know why I let you walk away again, but I’m sorry. So sorry, baby,” I tell her, hoping the use of the word will help my cause. I wrap my arms around her legs, and her hands move to my head, caressing and running her fingers through my hair. “I know I always fuck everything up and I know I can’t treat you the way that I have been. I just love you so much that it overwhelms me, and I don’t know what the fuck to do half the time, so I just say things on impulse and don’t think of how the words affect you. I know I keep breaking your heart, but please . . . please let me fix it. I’ll put it back together and I won’t dare to break it again. I’m sorry, I’m always sorry, I know. I’ll get a fucking shrink or something. I don’t care, just . . .” I sob into her legs.
I grab hold of the waistband of the boxers and slide them down.
“What are you . . .” She stops my hands.
“Please, just take them off. I can’t stand you wearing them, please . . . I won’t touch you, just let me take them off,” I beg, and she lifts her hands from mine, returning them to my hair as I slide the boxers to the floor and she steps out of them.