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“You’re leaving today? Right now?” She frowns.
“Yeah . . . I told her I would come for Christmas.” For once I want Hardin to come into the room to help me talk my way out of this.
“Oh, I was hoping you would stay at least a night. Who knows when I’ll be able to see you again—and I would love to get to know the young woman who my son has fallen in love with.”
And suddenly something in me wants to make this woman happy. I don’t know if it’s because of my mistake about saying I knew about Ken and her, or because of the way she covered for me in front of Hardin. But I do know I don’t want to overthink this, so I silence my inner voice and just nod, and say, “Okay.”
“Really? You’ll stay? Just one night, then you can go to your mum’s house. You don’t want to be driving through that snow anyway.” She wraps her arms around me and hugs me for the fifth time today.
At least she’ll be here to be a buffer between Hardin and me. We can’t fight if she’s here. Well, I won’t fight, at least. I know this is probably . . . certainly the worst idea, but Trish is hard to say no to. Just like her son.
“Well, I’m going to take a quick shower. I had a long flight!” She smiles broadly and heads out.
I sink down onto the bed and close my eyes. This is going to be the most awkward, painful twenty-four hours of my life. No matter what I do, I always seem to end up back where I started, with him.
After a few minutes I open my eyes to find Hardin standing in front of the closet with his back to me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you,” he says when he turns back around. I sit up. He is being so strange, apologizing every other word. “I see that you cleaned the apartment,” he says softly.
“Yeah . . . I couldn’t help it.” I smile, and so does he. “Hardin, I told your mom that I would stay tonight. Only tonight, but if that’s not okay, I’ll go. I just felt bad because she’s so nice, and I couldn’t say no, but if that makes you uncomfor—”
“Tessa, it’s fine,” he says quickly, but then his voice shakes when he adds, “I want you to stay.”
I don’t know what to say, and I don’t understand this strange turn of events. I want to thank him for the present, but there is just too much going on inside of my head.
“Did you have a nice birthday yesterday?” he asks.
“Oh, yeah. Landon came by.”
“Oh . . .” But then we hear his mother in the living room, and he moves to go. He stops before walking through the door and turns to me. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to act.”
I sigh. “Me either.”
At that, he nods, and we both get up to join his mother in the other room.
Chapter twenty-four
TESSA
When Hardin and I enter the living room, his mother is sitting on the couch with her wet hair pulled into a bun. She looks so young for her age, so stunning. “We should rent some movies, and I’ll make dinner for all of us!” she exclaims. “Don’t you miss my cooking, dumpling?”
Hardin rolls his eyes and shrugs. “Sure. Best cook ever.”
This couldn’t possibly be more awkward.
“Hey! I’m not that bad.” She laughs. “And I think you just talked yourself into being chef tonight.”
I shift uncomfortably, unsure how to behave around Hardin unless we’re together or fighting. This is an odd place for us, though I suddenly realize this is a pattern of ours: Karen and Ken had been under the impression that we were dating before we actually were.
“Can you cook, Tessa?” Trish asks, breaking my thoughts. “Or is it Hardin, too?”
“Um, we both do. Maybe more ‘preparing’ than cooking, really,” I answer.
“I’m glad to hear that you’re taking care of my boy, and this apartment is so nice, too. I suspect Tessa does the cleaning,” she teases.
I’m not “taking care of her boy,” since that’s what he’s missing out on for hurting me the way he did. “Yeah . . . he’s a slob,” I answer.
Hardin looks down at me with a small smile playing on his lips. “I’m not a slob—she’s just too clean.”
I roll my eyes. “He’s a slob,” Trish and I say in unison.
“Are we going to watch a movie or pick on me all night?” Hardin is pouting.
I sit down before Hardin does so I don’t have to make the uncomfortable decision about where to sit. I can see him eyeing the couch and me, silently deciding what to do. After a moment, he sits right next to me, so I feel the familiar heat from his proximity.
“What do you want to watch?” his mother asks us.
“It doesn’t matter,” Hardin replies.
“You can choose.” I try to soften his answer.
She smiles at me before choosing 50 First Dates, a movie I’m sure Hardin will hate.
And right on cue, Hardin groans as it begins. “This movie is old as shit.”
“Shhh,” I say, and he huffs but stays quiet.
I catch him staring at me several times while Trish and I laugh and sigh along with the movie. I’m actually enjoying myself, and for a few moments I almost forget everything that has happened between Hardin and me. It’s hard not to lean into Hardin, not to touch his hands, not to move his hair when it falls onto his forehead.
“I’m hungry,” he mumbles when the movie ends.
“Why don’t you and Tessa cook, since I had such a long flight?” Trish smiles.
“You’re really milking this long-flight thing, aren’t you?” he says to her.