âMorning.â Heâs wide-awake now, and I canât help but laugh. He leisurely drags his hips in a circle again, and this time I try to wiggle free. He joins me in laughter but quickly silences me by covering my mouth with his. His tongue laps mine, gently caressing, hinting at an intention completely opposed to the sharp movements his hips are making.
âAre you plugged?â he whispers, still kissing me. His hands have moved to my chest, and my heart is thumping rapidly, making his sleepy voice barely audible.
âI am.â I nod, only mildly cringing at the hideous term I have become used to. He pulls away, his eyes slowly raking over my face, and his tongue swiping along his bottom lip, wetting it.
The sound of kitchen cabinets opening and closing carries down the hallway, followed by a large belch, and then the crash of pans on the floor.
Hardinâs eyes roll. âFucking lovely.â He stares down at me. âWell, I had planned on fucking you before we left, but now that Mr. Sunshineâs awake . . .â
He climbs off of me and stands up, taking the blanket with him. âIâll be quick in the shower,â he says with a scowl toward the door.
Hardin returns less than five minutes later just as Iâm tucking in the corners of the bedsheet. The only article of clothing heâs wearing is a white towel wrapped around his waist. I force my eyes away from his gorgeous inked body and up to his face while he walks over to the dresser and pulls out a signature black T-shirt. Pulling it down over his head, he steps into a pair of boxers.
âLast night was a fucking disaster.â His eyes are focused on his busted hand as he buttons his jeans.
âYeah.â I sigh, trying to avoid any further conversation that revolves around my parents.
âLetâs go.â He grabs his keys and phone from the dresser and shoves them into his pockets. He pushes his wet hair back off his forehead and opens the bedroom door. âWell . . . ?â he impatiently remarks when I donât jump up right away. What happened to the playful Hardin from only minutes ago? If his bad mood continues this way, then I suspect that today will be just as bad as yesterday.
Without a word, I follow him through the door and down the hallway. The bathroom door is closed, and the water is on. I donât want to wait for my father to get out of the shower, but I also donât want to leave without telling him where weâre going and making sure he doesnât need anything. What does he do in this apartment while heâs alone? Does he think about drugs all day? Does he have people over?
I shake the second thought from my head. Hardin would find out if he brought bad friends around, and my father sure as heck wouldnât still be here if that were the case.
HARDIN STAYS QUIET during the drive to Ken and Karenâs place. The only assurance I have that today isnât going to be a total wash is his hand resting on my thigh while he focuses on the road.
When we arrive, Hardin, as always, doesnât knock before walking inside. The sweet smell of maple syrup fills the house, and we follow the scent to the kitchen. Karen is standing next to the oven, a spatula is one hand while she waves the other through the air in conversation. An unfamiliar young woman is seated at one of the island stools. Her long brown hair is the only thing I see until she turns the stool around when Karenâs attention is directed toward us.
âTessa, Hardin!â Karen nearly shrieks with joy as she carefully places the spatula onto the counter and rushes over to wrap her arms around me. âItâs been so long!â she exclaims, holding me at armâs length and then crushing me back to her body. Her warm welcome is exactly what I needed after last night.
âItâs only been three weeks, Karen,â Hardin rudely remarks.
Her smile dims a fraction, and she tucks her hair behind her ear.
I peer around her to take in all the baked goods around the kitchen. âWhat are you making?â I ask to distract her from her stepsonâs sour attitude.
âMaple cookies, maple cupcakes, maple squares, and maple muffins.â Karen pulls me along gently while Hardin cowers in the corner, a deep frown set on his face.
Ignoring him, I look at the young woman again, unsure how to introduce myself.
âOh!â Karen takes notice. âIâm sorry, I should have introduced you first thing.â She gestures to the woman. âThis is Sophia; her parents live just down the road.â
Sophia smiles and reaches to shake my hand. âNice to meet you,â she says with a smile. Sheâs beautiful, extremely beautiful. Her eyes are bright and her smile warm; sheâs older than me, but she canât be much more than twenty-five.
âIâm Tessa, Landonâs friend,â I say.
Hardin coughs behind me, obviously displeased at my choice of words. I assume Sophia knows Landon, and since Hardin and I are . . . well, this morning it just seems easier to introduce myself this way.
âI havenât gotten to meet Landon yet,â Sophia says. Her voice is soft and sweet, and I immediately like her.
âOh?â I assumed she knew him, since her family lives down the road.
âSophia has just graduated from the Culinary Institute of America in New York,â Karen brags for her, and Sophia smiles. I donât blame her; if Iâd just graduated from the best culinary school in the country, Iâd let people brag for me, too. I mean, if I wasnât already doing it myself.
âIâm visiting my family, and I ran into Karen down the road . . . buying some syrup.â She grins, eyeing the massive amount of maple-flavored goodies on display.
âOh, and this is Hardin,â I say to include my brooding man in the background.