I wave once more as our company leaves and let out a deep breath that I hadn’t realized I was holding. A hockey game with Landon—what the fuck have I gotten myself into?
“That was so nice. You were so nice.” Tessa praises me and immediately kicks off her high heels before lining them neatly by the door.
I shrug. “It was okay, I guess.”
“It was better than okay.” Tessa beams at me.
“Whatever,” I state with an exaggerated grumpiness, and she giggles.
“I really love you. You know that, don’t you?” she asks as she walks around the living room picking up after everyone. I tease her about her cleaning habits, but the place would be trashed if it were only me living here.
“So, the watch? You like it?” she asks.
“No, it’s hideous, and I don’t wear watches.”
“I think it looks nice.”
“What about your bracelet?” I hesitantly ask her.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Oh . . .” I look away. “It’s fancy and expensive,” I add.
“Yeah . . . I feel bad that they spent all that money on it when I won’t really be wearing it. I’ll have to wear it when they’re around once or twice.”
“Why won’t you wear it?”
“Because I already have a favorite bracelet.” She shakes her wrist back and forth, making the charms hit one another.
“Oh. You like mine better?” I can’t hide my stupid smile.
She looks at me with a lightly chastising look. “Of course I do, Hardin.”
I try to hold on to some of the little dignity I have left, but I can’t help but scoop her up by the back of her legs. When she screams, I laugh loudly. I don’t remember ever laughing this way in my entire life.
Chapter fifty-three
TESSA
The next morning I wake up early, shower, and with my towel still wrapped around me, quickly start a pot of that elixir of life: coffee. As I watch it brew, an awareness bubbles up in me that I’m a little nervous to see Kimberly. I don’t know what her reaction to Hardin and me getting back together will be. She’s not judgmental, but flipping the situation around, I don’t know what my reaction would be if it were her going through the same thing with Christian. She doesn’t know all of the details, but she knows they’re bad enough for me to keep them from her.
With a steaming mug in hand, I walk over to the large window in the living room. The snow is falling in thick clusters; I wish it would stop already. I hate driving in the snow, and most of the way to Vance is freeway.
“Morning.” Hardin’s voice startles me from the hall.
“Morning.” I smile and take another sip of my coffee. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” I ask him as he wipes the sleep from his eyes.
“Shouldn’t you be dressed?” he retaliates.
I smile and walk past him toward the bedroom to get myself dressed, but he tugs on the towel and pulls it from my body, making me shriek and rush into the room. Hearing footsteps behind me, I lock the door. God knows what will happen if I let him in. My skin flames at the thought, but I don’t have time for that right now.
“Nice, very mature,” he says through the wood.
“I never claimed to be mature.” I smile and pad to the closet, where I decide on a long black skirt and red blouse. Not my most flattering outfit, but it’s my first day back and it’s snowing. After I put light makeup on in the full-length mirror in the closet, all I have left to do is dry my hair. When I open the door, Hardin is nowhere to be found. I quickly half dry my hair before pulling it back into a secure bun.
“Hardin?” I grab my purse and take out my phone to call him.
No answer. Where is he? My heart begins to pound as I walk through the apartment. After a minute, the front door clicks open and he steps inside, covered in snow.
“Where were you? I was getting nervous.”
“Nervous? Of what?” he asks.
“I don’t know, really. That you were hurt or something?” I sound ridiculous.
“I was just scraping and starting your car for you so it’s warm and ready when you get down there.” He shrugs off his jacket and removes his soaked boots, leaving a puddle of slush on the concrete.
I can’t hide my surprise. “Who are you?” I laugh.
“Don’t start that shit or I’ll go back down and slash your tires,” he says.
I roll my eyes and laugh at his empty threat. “Well, thank you.”
“I . . . I can drive you?” His eyes meet mine.
Now I really don’t know who he is. He was polite for the most part yesterday, and now he’s heating my car and offering to drive me to work—not to mention the way he laughed so hard last night that his eyes were brimming with moisture. Honesty really does look good on him.
“. . . or not,” he adds when I take too long to reply.
“I would love it,” I say, and he puts his boots back on.
When we get downstairs and start pulling out of the lot, Hardin remarks, “Good thing your car is such shit, or someone could have stolen it while it was down here running.”
“It is not shit!” I defend, eyeing the small crack in the passenger window. “Anyway, I was thinking next week when classes start back up we can drive to campus together, right? Your classes are around the same times as mine, and on the days I go to Vance, I’ll just take my car and meet you back at home.”
“Okay . . .” He stares ahead out the windshield.
“What?”