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“I should get a tattoo,” I blurt.
“You?” He laughs loudly.
“Yeah! Why not?” I say with joke indignation. Getting a tattoo sounds like a good idea at the moment. I have no idea what I would get, but it sounds fun. Adventurous and fun.
“I think you drank way too much,” he teases, rubbing his fingers over the tape to reattach the bandage to his skin.
“You don’t think I could handle it?” I challenge.
“No, it’s not that. I just . . . I don’t know. I can’t imagine you having a tattoo. What would you even get?” He tries not to laugh.
“I don’t know . . . like a sun? Or a smiley face?”
“A smiley face? This is definitely the vodka talking here.”
“Probably.” I giggle. Then, when I’m quiet, I say, “I thought you were mad at me.”
His expression changes from laughing to neutral. “Why did you think that?” he asks quietly.
“Because you avoided me until Tristan made you play beer pong.”
He lets out a breath. “Oh . . . I wasn’t avoiding you, Tessa. I just don’t want to cause any problems.”
“With who? Hardin?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
“Yeah. He made it clear that I need to stay away from you, and I don’t want to fight him again. I don’t want any more trouble between us, or with you. I just . . . never mind.”
“He’s getting better, sort of, anger-wise,” I say awkwardly. I don’t know if that’s true, exactly, but I would like to think him not killing Trevor already says something.
He looks at me doubtfully. “Is he?”
“Yeah, he is. I think—”
“Where is he, anyway? I was surprised he let you out of his sight.”
“I have no idea,” I say and look around, as if that would help. “He went to talk with Logan, and I haven’t seen him since.”
He nods and scratches his stomach. “Weird.”
“Yes, weird.” I laugh, thankful that vodka seems to make everything much more amusing.
“Steph was really happy to see you tonight,” he says as he puts a cigarette to his lips. A quick flick of his thumb brings a lighter flame to life, and soon the smell of nicotine invades my nostrils.
“I could tell. And I’ve missed her, but I’m still upset over everything that happened.” The topic doesn’t feel as heavy as it did before. I’m having a great time, even though Hardin isn’t around. I laughed and joked with Steph, and for the first time it felt like I could put all of this behind me and move forward with her.
“You’re brave for coming here,” he tells me with a smile.
“Stupid and brave aren’t the same thing,” I joke.
“I mean it. After everything . . . you didn’t hide away somewhere. I probably would have.”
“I did hide for a little while, but he found me.”
“I always do.” Hardin’s voice startles me, and I grip on to Zed’s jacket to prevent myself from falling off the stone wall.
Chapter fifty-eight
HARDIN
My words are true. I do always find her. I usually find her doing things that drive me fucking mad, like hanging out with fucking Trevor or Zed.
I can’t fucking believe that I came out here to find Tessa and Zed sitting on a wall talking about her hiding from me. This is bullshit. She latches on to Zed to steady herself as I stride across the frozen grass.
“Hardin,” Tessa squeaks, clearly surprised by my presence.
“Yeah, Hardin,” I say.
Zed scoots away from her, and I try to stay calm. Why the hell is she out here with Zed alone? I specifically told her to stay inside, in the kitchen. When I asked Steph where the hell Tessa was, all she said was “Zed.” After five minutes of searching the entire fucking house—mostly the bedrooms—I finally looked outside. And here they are. Together.
“You were supposed to stay in the kitchen,” I say, adding “babe” to soften my harsh tone.
“You were supposed to be right back . . . Baby.”
I sigh and take a deep breath before speaking again. I always react to every impulse that I get, and I’m trying not to do that anymore. But fuck if she doesn’t make it difficult. “Let’s go inside,” I say and reach for her hand.
I need to get her away from Zed, and honestly, I need to get myself away from him as well. I’ve already beat the shit out of him once, and something in me wouldn’t mind doing it again.
“I’m going to get a tattoo, Hardin,” Tess tells me as I help her down from the wall.
“What?” Is she drunk?
“Yeah . . . you should see Zed’s new tattoo, Hardin. It’s so nice.” She smiles. “Show him, Zed.”
Why the fuck was Tessa looking at his tattoos, and how much did I miss? What else were they doing? What else was he showing her? He has wanted her since the first time he met her, just like I did. The difference being that I wanted to fuck her, and he actually liked her. But I won; she chose me.
“I don’t . . .” Zed begins, visibly uncomfortable.
“No, no. Go on, show me, please,” I say sarcastically.
Zed blows out some smoke and, to my horror and absolute fucking annoyance, lifts his shirt up. Moving the bandage aside, I see that the tattoo itself is actually pretty cool, but why he felt the need to show my Tessa this shit is beyond me.
Tessa beams. “Isn’t it cool? I want one. I think we decided on a smiley face!”
She isn’t serious. I pull my lip ring between my teeth to prevent myself from laughing at her. I look at Zed, who just shakes his head and shrugs. Some of my annoyance disappears at her ridiculous idea for a tattoo. “Are you drunk?” I ask her.