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“Yeah,” I admit. But when I hear the suction of a deep breath, I try to soften the blow by adding, “Only once.”
“Why?” His voice is cool yet heated. It’s a strange sound.
“I honestly have no idea . . . I was mad because of how you were acting on the phone, and I had way too much to drink. So I danced with this guy, and he kissed me.”
“You danced with him? Danced how?” he asks.
I roll my eyes at Hardin’s needing to know every detail of what I do, even when we aren’t together. “You don’t want me to answer that.”
His words thicken the air between us again. “Yes, I do.”
“Hardin, we just danced like people do at a club. Then he kissed me and tried to get me to go home with him.” I stare at the blades on the ceiling fan. I know that if we keep talking about this, they will eventually be forced to stop, unable to cut through the tension.
I try to change the subject. “Thank you for the e-reader. It was very thoughtful.”
“He tried to get you to go home with him? Did you?” I hear him shuffling, giving me an indication that he’s now sitting up.
I remain flat against the mattress. “Do you even have to ask that? You know I would never do that,” I snap.
“Well, I never thought you would be kissing and dancing at a club either,” he barks.
After a few beats of silence I speak. “I don’t think you want to get started on the unexpected.”
The blankets shuffle again, and I can feel him right next to me. That voice is right next to me. “Tell me, please tell me, that you didn’t.”
He sits down on the bed next to me and I move away from him. “You know I didn’t. I saw you later that night.”
“I need to hear you say it.” His voice is harsh but pleading. “Say that you only kissed him once and you haven’t spoken to him since.”
“I only kissed him once and I haven’t spoken to him since,” I repeat, only because I know he desperately needs to hear the words.
I keep my eyes focused on the swirl of ink poking out from the low collar of his shirt. Having him on the bed soothes me and burns me all at once. I can’t stand the internal battle I’m stuck in the middle of.
“Is there anything else I should know?” he asks softly.
“No,” I lie. I am not telling him about the date with Trevor. Nothing happened and it’s none of Hardin’s business. I like Trevor, and I want to keep him safe from the time bomb that is Hardin.
“You sure?”
“Hardin . . . I don’t really think you’re in the position to be hounding me,” I say and look into his eyes. I can’t help it.
“I know,” he surprises me by saying.
When he moves off of the bed, I try to ignore the emptiness that takes me over.
Chapter twenty-six
HARDIN
Today has been hell. A hell that I welcomed with open arms, but hell all the same. I never expected to see Tessa when I came home from the airport. I had come up with a simple lie: my girlfriend wouldn’t be available because she’d be out of town all week for Christmas. My mum had whined a little but didn’t ask too many questions or push my story. She had been so thrilled—and surprised, really—that I had a woman in my life. I think her and my father both expected me to be alone my entire life. Then again, so did I.
I find it amusing, in a twisted way, that I can’t go a second without thinking of this girl, when up until three months ago I wanted to be alone. I never knew what I was missing, and now that I found it, I can’t let it go. It’s only her, though; no matter what I do, I can’t shake her.
I tried to stop, tried to forget about her, tried to move on . . . and it was a disaster. The perfectly nice blonde that I took out Saturday night wasn’t Tessa. No one would ever be. Sure, she looked like her, even dressed like her. She blushed when I cursed and seemed a little afraid of me throughout our dinner. She was nice enough, yeah, but she was boring.
She was missing that fire that Tess has—she didn’t scold me for my foul language, she didn’t even say anything when I put my hand on her thigh in the middle of dinner. I knew she only agreed to go out with me to fulfill some fucked-up bad-boy fantasy before church the next morning, but that’s okay, because I was using her, too. I was using her to fill the void of Tessa. To distract me from Tessa being in Seattle still with fucking Trevor. The guilt I felt when I moved in to kiss her was overwhelming. I pulled away, and the embarrassment was clear on her innocent face—I practically ran to my car, leaving her stranded at the restaurant.
I sit up further and look at the sleeping girl that I am desperately in love with. Seeing her in our apartment with her clothes in the washer, the apartment clean, and even her toothbrush in the bathroom . . . it gave me a little bit of hope. But then again, you know what they say about hope.
I’m still holding on to the sliver that exists, the small chance that she may forgive me. If she woke up now, she would surely scream at the sight of me standing over her as she sleeps.
I know I need to take it down a few notches. I need to give her a little space. This behavior and these feelings are so exhausting, so overwhelming to me, and I have no fucking idea how to deal with them. But I will figure this out—I have to fix all of this. I push a loose strand of her soft hair from her face and force myself away from the bed, back to my pile of blankets, on the concrete floor, where I belong.
Maybe I’ll be able to sleep tonight.
Chapter twenty-seven
TESSA
When I wake up, I’m momentarily confused by the brick ceiling above me. It’s strange to wake up here after staying in hotels for the past week. When I climb out of bed, the floor is clear, with the blanket and pillows piled next to the closet. Grabbing my toiletry bag, I head to the bathroom.