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I hug my arms around my body in excitement. “No England, then?” I give him one last chance to bring up the wedding.
“Nope. No England.”
I’ve already won the Great Battle of Seattle, so when the niggling irritation about the wedding flares up again, I don’t push my guy any further tonight. Whatever’s going on with that, I’m going to get what I want: Hardin in Seattle, with me.
Chapter one hundred and twelve
TESSA
When my alarm sounds the next morning, I’m exhausted. I barely slept at all. I spent hours tossing and turning, always on the brink of sleep but never achieving it.
I don’t know if it was the excitement over Hardin agreeing to move to Seattle, or if it was the looming discussion we’re bound to have about England, but either way, I got no sleep, and now I look like hell. Dark shadows aren’t as easy to hide with concealer as the cosmetics companies would have you believe, and my unruly hair looks as if I stuck my finger into a light socket. Apparently the joy I felt about him moving here couldn’t completely eliminate the underlying anxiety about his lying by omission.
I take Kimberly up on her offer to ride to work together this morning, buying myself a few extra minutes to apply another coat of mascara while she recklessly whips in and out of lanes on the freeway. She reminds me of Hardin, cursing at nearly every car and honking more often than any reasonable person needs to do.
Hardin hasn’t mentioned whether or not he’s still planning on coming to Seattle today. When I asked him just before we got off the phone last night, he told me he’d let me know in the morning. It’s close to nine now, and I haven’t heard from him. I can’t shake the feeling that something is happening within him, something that if not handled properly will cause us more turmoil. I know Steph got to him; I can tell by the way he’s doubting everything I say. He’s keeping things from me again, and I’m terrified of the problems this could lead to.
“Maybe you should go back this weekend instead of having him coming to you,” Kimberly suggests between cursing out a semi and a MINI.
“It’s that obvious?” I ask, lifting my cheek from the cold window.
“Yes, very obvious.”
“Sorry, I’m being such a downer.” I sigh.
Going back this weekend isn’t a bad idea. I miss Landon terribly, and it would be nice to see my father again.
“You are.” She grins at me. “But that’s nothing a little coffee and some red lipstick won’t fix.”
When I nod my agreement, she quickly exits the highway, makes a U-turn in the middle of a busy intersection, and says, “I know a great little coffee shop nearby.”
BY LUNCHTIME, my morning blues have disappeared, although I still haven’t heard from Hardin. I texted him twice but ultimately stopped myself from calling him. Trevor is waiting for me at an empty table in the break room, two plates of pasta in front of him.
“They sent double my order, so I figured I’d save you from a microwave meal for at least one day.” He smiles, sliding a packet of plastic eating utensils across the table.
The pasta tastes as savory as it smells. The delicious Alfredo sauce reminds me that I skipped breakfast this morning, and I flush when a small moan falls from my mouth as I take my first bite.
“Good, huh?” Trevor beams, wiping his thumb across the corner of his mouth to capture a drop of the creamy sauce. He brings his thumb to his mouth, and I can’t help but think how odd the causal gesture looks on a man who’s wearing a suit.
“Mmm . . .” I can barely answer, because I’m too busy shoving noodles in my face.
“I’m glad . . .” Trevor’s deep blue eyes dart away from mine, and he shifts in his seat.
“Is everything all right?” I ask him.
“Yeah . . . I . . . well . . . I wanted to talk to you about something.”
And like that, I begin to ask myself if the double meal wasn’t in fact purposely ordered.
“Okay . . .” I respond, hoping this isn’t going to be too awkward.
“It may be a little awkward.”
Great. “Go on,” I say with an encouraging smile.
“Okay . . . here goes.” He pauses and runs his fingertip over a silver cuff link. “Carine has asked me to attend Krystal’s wedding with her.”
I take the opportunity to shovel a forkful of pasta into my mouth so I don’t have to speak just yet. Really, I’m not sure why he’s telling me this, or what I’m supposed to say. I nod, pushing him to continue, and try not to laugh thinking the funny Carine imitation Kimberly was doing yesterday.
“And I was wondering if there was any reason that I should say no to her,” Trevor says. He pauses to look at me like he expects a response.
I’m positive that the choking sound I make frightens him, but when he shoots me a look of concern, I hold up one finger and continue chewing, thoroughly, then swallow rather dramatically before responding. “I don’t see any reason for it.”
I hope that’s the end of that. But when he goes on to say “What I mean is . . .” all I can hope is that he magically guesses that I, in fact, know exactly what he means and will just sort of let that sentence trail off without further explanation.
No such luck.
“I know you’re on and off with Hardin, and I also know this is one of those ‘off’ times, so I just wanted to be sure before I accept her proposal that I can give her my full affection. Without distractions.”
I’m not sure what to say, so I quietly ask, “Am I a distraction?”