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Stop this. I need to stop thinking this way; I’m happy now, and he has clearly made a life for himself that doesn’t involve me. I’m okay with that. I just want him to be happy, that’s all. I loved seeing him with his new friends at his graduation; I loved the way he was so collected, so . . . happy.
I just hated the way he walked off when I took too long coming back from the restroom. I’d left my phone on the counter by the sink, but when I remembered it and returned, it was already gone. Then I’d spent a half hour trying to find the lost and found, or a guard to help me find it. Eventually I saw it sitting on a trash can, like someone realized it wasn’t theirs, but didn’t bother to put it back where they found it. In any event, the battery was already dead. I tried to find Hardin at the spot where I’d left him, but he was gone. Ken said he’d left with his friends, and something clicked then—that this was over. It was really over.
Do I wish he would have come back for me? Of course. But he didn’t, and I can’t live my life wishing that he did.
I purposely picked up extra shifts this weekend, wanting to keep myself as busy as possible and keep my time at the apartment to a minimum. Due to the tension and bickering between Sophia and her roommates, I am going to try my hardest to avoid staying there, but I certainly will if things are too awkward with Hardin. Sophia and I have become closer, but I try not to pry too much. I am too biased due to my friendship with Landon, and I don’t think I want to hear the details. Especially if she started to feel comfortable talking to me about sex with him. I shudder thinking about Kimberly’s revelations about sweet, reserved Trevor’s escapades in the office.
Two blocks from Lookout, I look down at my phone to check the time and nearly walk straight into Robert. His hands reach out and stop me before I collide with him.
“Lookout!” he says lamely, and chuckles while I groan. “See, it’s hilarious, because we work at Lookout and, and . . .” He smiles and adjusts his own lime-green tie comically.
The tie looks much better on him than it does on me, with his blond hair messy and sticking straight up in some places. I debate whether to remind him about Hardin, but stay silent while we cross the street with a group of teenage girls, all giggling and smiling at him. I don’t blame them—he’s handsome.
“Just a little distracted,” I finally admit as we turn the corner.
“He’s coming today, right?” Robert holds the door open for me, and I step into the darkly lit restaurant. The inside of Lookout is so dark that it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the difference whenever I walk inside from a sunny afternoon, and even now though it’s barely noon. I follow him back to the break room, where I store my purse in a small locker and he slides his cell phone onto the top shelf.
“Yes.” I close the door to the locker and lean my back against it.
Robert reaches his hand out to touch my elbow. “You know I’m okay with you talking about him to me. I don’t exactly love the guy, but you can talk to me about anything.”
“I know.” I sigh. “I appreciate that so much. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to open that drawer. I’ve had it closed too long.” I laugh and hope that it comes out more authentic than it feels. I lead the way out of the break room, and Robert follows close behind.
He smiles and looks up at the clock on the wall. If it weren’t glowing red with deep blue numbers, I don’t think I would be able to read the time in the hallway. The hallways are the darkest part of the restaurant, and the kitchen and the break room are the only areas that have standard lighting.
My shift begins normally, and the hours tick by quickly as the lunch crowd leaves and the dinner crowd begins to pour in. I’ve gotten myself to the point where I had almost been able to forget about Hardin’s arrival for five minutes straight, when Robert walks over with a worried look on his face.
“They’re here. Landon and Hardin.” Robert’s hands grab the hem of his apron, and he wipes the cloth across his forehead. “They’re requesting your section.”
I don’t panic the way I had assumed that I would. Instead, I simply nod and work my way toward the entrance and search for Landon. I force my eyes to only search for Landon and his plaid shirt, not Hardin. Nervously, I glance around the area, looking over face after face, none of them Landon’s.
“Tess.” A hand touches my arm and I jump back.
It’s that voice, that deep, beautiful, accented voice that I have played in my head for months and months.
“Tessa?” Hardin touches me again; this time his hand wraps around my wrist, the way it always used to.
I don’t want to turn and face him—well, I do, but I’m terrified. I’m terrified to see him, to see the face that has been permanently branded into my mind, never to be altered or diluted by time the way that I had assumed it would be. His face, grumpy and ever frowning, will always be as vivid as the first time I saw him.
I quickly snap out of my trance and turn around. In the mere seconds that I have to plan, I try to focus on finding Landon’s eyes before Hardin’s, but what’s the use?
It’s impossible to miss those eyes, those gorgeous green eyes that could never be duplicated.
Hardin smiles at me, and I stand there, unable to speak for a few seconds. I need to get it together. “Hi,” he says.
“Hi.”
“Hardin wanted to come here.” I hear Landon’s voice, but my eyes don’t seem to want to cooperate with my mind. Hardin is staring at me just the same, his fingers still pressing against the skin on my wrist. I should pull away before the pounding of my pulse betrays my reaction to seeing him after three months.