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I pull her through the crowd and lead her into the least crowded room downstairs, which happens to the kitchen. Tessa leans her elbows on the island and looks up at me. How is it that she looks just as beautiful as she did when we left the apartment? All the other girls here look dreadful by now—after the first drink, their makeup begins to smear, their hair begins to tangle, and they look sloppy. Not Tessa. Tessa looks like a fucking goddess compared to them. Compared to anyone.
“I want another drink, Hardin,” she says, but when I shake my head, she sticks her tongue out of her mouth like a child. “Please? I’m having fun, don’t be a party pooper.”
“Fine, one more, but you have to stop talking like a ten-year-old,” I tease her.
“Okay, sir. I most sincerely apologize for my immature language. I will not repeat said indiscretion—”
“Or an old man,” I say with a laugh. “But you can call me sir again.”
“Fuck, well, okay, then. I’ll fucking stop fucking talking like a motherfucking . . .”
But she doesn’t finish her foul sentence because she and I are both laughing too hard.
“You’re insane tonight,” I tell her.
She giggles. “I know, it’s fun.”
I’m glad she’s having fun, but I can’t help the annoyance that I feel at her having had fun with Zed, not me. I’m going to keep my mouth shut, though, because I don’t want to ruin her night.
She stands, taking a sip from her drink. “Let’s go find Steph.”
“You okay with her now?” I ask as I follow her. I don’t know how I feel about that. Good? I suppose . . .
“I think so. There they are!” She points to Tristan and Steph sitting on the couch.
As we walk into the living room, a small cluster of guys sitting on the floor turns to look at Tessa. She’s oblivious to their lustful stares, but I’m not. I shoot them a warning glare, and almost all of them turn away except a blond who slightly resembles Noah. He continues to stare as we walk by; I debate whether kicking him in the face would be a good idea or not. But I choose to take Tessa’s hand in mine instead, for now at least.
Her head snaps back to look down at our joined hands, and her eyes are wide. Why is she so surprised? I mean, yeah, hand-holding isn’t something I feel comfortable doing usually, but I do it on occasion . . . don’t I?
“There you two are!” Steph calls as we approach.
Molly is sitting on the floor next to a guy I recognize. I’m pretty sure he’s a junior and his father owns some land in Vancouver, making him a trust-fund brat. The two of them look fucking stupid together, but I’m just glad she’s leaving me alone for now. She is so damn annoying, and Tessa hates her.
“We were outside,” I tell her.
“I’m bored,” Nate says, stirring his finger through his beer.
I sit down at the end of the couch and pull Tessa onto my lap. Eyes dart to us, but I don’t give a shit. I dare someone to say something about it. Within seconds, they all look away, except Steph, who stares a little too long before smiling. I don’t return it, but I don’t flip her off either, which is progress, right?
“We should play Truth or Dare,” a voice suggests, and it takes a second to realize who the voice came from.
What the hell? I lean my head up to look at Tessa, who is still seated on my lap.
“Sure, like you want to play,” Molly mocks her.
“Why would you suggest that? You hate those games,” I say quietly.
She smirks. “I don’t know, I think it could be fun tonight.”
I follow her eyes to Molly, and I don’t even want to know what is stirring in that pretty head of Tessa’s.
Chapter fifty-nine
HARDIN
Right as I whisper to Tessa, “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” she turns around in my lap and puts her index finger over my lips to silence me.
Molly pipes up with a sly smile, “What’s wrong, Hardin, afraid of a little dare . . . or is it the truth that you fear?”
What a fucking cunt. I’m about to reply, but I’m taken aback when Tessa growls, “You’re the one that should be afraid.”
Molly raises one brow. “Really?”
“Okay . . . okay . . . calm down, you two,” Nate says.
As much as I’m enjoying watching Tessa put Molly in her place, I don’t want Molly to take it too far. Tessa is a lot more fragile and sensitive than she is, and Molly will say anything she can to hurt Tessa.
“Who goes first?” Tristan asks.
Tessa’s hand shoots up immediately. “Me.”
Oh Lord, this is going to be a fucking disaster.
“I think that maybe I should go first,” Steph interjects.
Tessa sighs but sits silently, bringing her cup to her lips. Her lips are reddish from the cherry drink, and for a moment I’m lost in thoughts of them being wrapped around me—
“Hardin, truth or dare?” Steph breaks me from my perverted thoughts.
“Not playing,” I say and try to go back to my fantasy.
“Why not?” she asks.
The spell broken, I look at her and groan. “A, I don’t want to. B, I’ve played more than enough lame-ass games.”
“Isn’t that the truth,” Molly mutters.
“That isn’t what he meant, back off,” Tristan says to defend me.
Why did I ever fuck Molly, again? She’s hot and was decent at giving blow jobs, but she’s so damn annoying. The memory of her touching me makes me nauseous, and I give Steph a keep-it-moving hand motion in order to redirect my mind.