He collapses onto me, shaking and out of breath. We lie in silence, neither of us needing to speak to know what the other is thinking.
âWHERE DO YOU want to go?â I ask him. I donât even want to leave the bed, but Hardin offering to take me out in Seattle, during the day, is something that hasnât happened in the past, and Iâm not sure if or when it will happen again.
âI donât give a shit, really. Maybe, like, shopping?â His eyes roam my face. âDo you need to go shopping? Or want to?â
âI donât really need anything . . .â I answer. When I look up and see how nervous he looks lying there next to me, I backtrack. âYeah, sure. Shopping is fine.â
Heâs making such an effort. Simple things that couples usually do are completely out of Hardinâs comfort zone. I smile at him, remembering the night he took me ice skating to prove that he could, in fact, be a regular boyfriend.
It was so much fun, and he was so charming and playful, much like heâs been the past week and a half. I donât want a âregularâ boyfriendâI want Hardin, with his crude humor and sour attitude, to take me on simple dates every once in a while and make me feel secure enough in our relationship that the downs will be washed away by the ups.
âCool.â He shifts uncomfortably.
âI just need to brush my teeth and tie my hair back.â
âAnd maybe get dressed.â He cups the overly sensitive area between my thighs. Hardin has already used one of his shirts to wipe me clean, something he used to do all the time.
âRight. Maybe I should rinse off in the shower.â I gulp, wondering if Hardin and I will go another round before we leave. Frankly, I donât know if either of us could handle it.
I stand up from the bed and wince. I knew I was going to be starting my period any day now; why did it have to come right now, of all days? I suppose it works in my favor, though, since itâll be gone by the time we leave for England.
Leave for England . . . it doesnât seem real.
âWhat?â Hardin says with a questioning look.
âIâm . . . itâs that time . . .â I look away from him, knowing that heâs had an entire month to store up his jokes.
âHmm . . . and what time is that?â He smirks, looking at his bare wrist as if thereâs a watch there.
âDonât . . .â I whine, pressing my thighs together so I can hurry and put on enough clothes to make it to the bathroom.
âWould you look at that? A hangover and a bloody attitude!â he taunts.
âYour jokes are terrible.â I pull his T-shirt over my head and catch the languid smile he shoots at me as he takes in the sight of me wearing his shirt again.
âTerrible, huh?â His green eyes dance with amusement. âMaybe so terrible that you want to pull the plug on them?â
I hurry and exit the room while heâs still laughing to himself.
Chapter one hundred and nineteen
HARDIN
I didnât even know you two were here. I thought Tessa had classes today,â Kimberly says to me when I enter the kitchen. Why is she even here?
âShe wasnât feeling well,â I reply. âArenât you supposed to be at work . . . or is staying home another perk of fucking your boss?â
âActually, I donât feel well either, you ass.â She tosses a wadded-up piece of paper at me but misses.
âYou and Tessa should really learn how to hold your champagne,â I tell her.
She flips me off.
The microwave sounds, and she pulls out a plastic bowl filled with something that looks and smells like cat food, then sits down at the countertop. She inhales forkful after forkful. I lift my fingers to safeguard my nose.
âThat smells like pure shit,â I remark.
âWhereâs Tessa? Sheâll shut you up.â
âWouldnât count on it.â I grin. I have sort of come to like taunting Vanceâs fiancée. She has a thick skin, and sheâs obnoxious enough that Iâm provided with plenty of ammunition.
âWouldnât count on what?â Tessa joins us in the kitchen dressed in a sweatshirt, tight jeans, and those slipper things she swears are shoes. Really, theyâre nothing but overpriced cloth wrapped around a piece of cardboard, using the pretense of charity to rip off stupid consumers. She disagrees, of course, so Iâve learned to keep this opinion to myself.
âNothing.â I dig my hands into my pockets to fight the urge to nudge Kimberlyâs smug ass off the stool.
âHeâs mouthing off, nothing new.â Kim takes another bite of her cat food.
âLetâs go, sheâs annoying,â I say just loud enough for Kim to hear.
âBe nice,â Tessa scolds me. I take her hand in mine and lead her out of the house.
When we get into the car, Tessa shoves a handful of plugs into my glove compartment. An idea strikes me. âYou need to get on birth control,â I tell her. Iâve been so careless lately, and now that Iâve felt her without a condom, thereâs no going back.
âI know. I keep meaning to make a doctorâs appointment, but itâs hard to get an appointment with student insurance.â
âSure, sure.â
âMaybe later this week I can get in. I need to do it soon; youâre careless lately,â she says.
âCareless? Me?â I scoff, trying not to panic. âYouâre the one that keeps catching me off guard, and I canât think straight.â
âOh please!â She giggles and leans her head back against the headrest.
âHey, if you want to ruin your life by having a child, go for it, but you sure as hell arenât taking me down with you.â I squeeze her thigh, and she frowns. âWhat?â