Hardin rolls his eyes but doesn’t give me an answer. He turns the music back on and its guitars and bass literally hurt my ears.
“Can you please turn it down?” I beg.
To my surprise, he does, but leaves it on for background noise.
“That music is terrible.”
He laughs and taps the steering wheel. “No, it’s not. Though I would love to know your opinion on what is good music.” When he smiles like this, he looks so carefree, especially with his window down, the breeze blowing through his hair. He reaches one hand up and pushes his hair back. I love the way it looks when it’s back like that. I shake the thoughts from my head.
“Well, I like Bon Iver, and the Fray,” I finally answer.
“Of course you do,” he says, and chuckles.
I defend my two favorite bands. “What is wrong with them? They are insanely talented, and their music is wonderful.”
“Yeah . . . they are talented. Talented at putting people to sleep.”
When I reach across and playfully swat his shoulder, he mock winces and laughs.
“Well, I love them,” I say with a smile. If we could just stay in this playful state, I might actually have a good time. I look out the window for the first time, but I don’t really know where we are. “Where are we going?”
“To one of my favorite places.”
“Which is where?”
“You really have to know everything that is going on in advance, don’t you?”
“Yeah . . . I like to—”
“Control everything?”
I stay quiet. I know he’s right, but that’s just the way I am.
“Well, I’m not telling you until we get there . . . which will be only about five minutes from now.”
I lean back against the leather seat of his car and turn my head to glance at the backseat. A messy stack of textbooks and loose papers rest on one side and a thick black sweatshirt rests on the other.
“See something that you like back there?” Hardin catches me by embarrassed surprise.
“What kind of car is this?” I ask. I need a distraction from both not knowing where we are going and him calling me out for being nosy.
“Ford Capri—a classic,” he boasts, obviously proud. He goes on to tell me all about it even though I have no idea what he is talking about. Still, I like to watch his lips as he talks, the way they move slowly as the words are even slower. After looking over at me a few times during the conversation, he pretty harshly says, “I don’t like to be stared at,” though he does smile a little after.
Chapter twenty-five
We start down a gravel road, and Hardin turns the music off so that the only noise is the little stones crunching beneath the tires. I suddenly realize we are out in the middle of nowhere. I get nervous now; we are alone, really alone. There are no cars, no buildings, nothing.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t bring you out here to kill you,” he jokes and I gulp. I doubt he realizes that I’m more afraid of what I might do when alone with him than if he was to actually try to kill me.
After another mile he stops the car. I look out the window and see nothing but grass and trees. There are yellow wildflowers across the landscape and the breeze is perfectly warm. Granted, the place is nice and serene. But why bring me here?
“What are we going to do here?” I ask him as I climb out of the car.
“Well, first, a bit of walking.”
I sigh. So he took me here to exercise?
Noticing my sour expression, he adds, “Not too much walking,” and begins along a part of the grass that looks flattened from being used a number of times.
We’re both quiet for most of the walk, save a few rude snips from Hardin about me being too slow. I ignore him and take in my surroundings. I am beginning to understand why he likes this seemingly random place. It’s so quiet. Peaceful. I could stay here forever as long as I brought a book with me. He turns off the trail and goes into a wooded area. My natural suspiciousness kicks in, but I follow. A few minutes later we emerge from the woods to a stream, or really more of a river. I have no idea where we are but the water looks pretty deep.
Hardin doesn’t say anything as he pulls his black T-shirt over his head. My eyes scan his inked torso. The way the empty branches of the dead tree are drawn into his skin is more appealing than haunting under the bright sun. He then bends down to untie his dirty black boots, glancing up at me, catching me staring at his half-naked body.
“Wait, why are you undressing?” I ask and look at the stream. Oh no. “You are going to swim? In that?” I say and point to the water.
“Yeah, and you are, too. I do it all the time.” He unbuttons his pants and I have to force myself to not stare at the way the muscles in his bare back move when he bends down and pulls them over his legs.
“I am not swimming in that.” I don’t mind swimming, but not in a random place in the middle of nowhere.
“And why is that?” He gestures toward the river. “It’s clean enough that you can see the bottom.”
“So . . . there are probably fish and God knows what in there.” I realize how ridiculous I sound but I don’t care. “Besides, you didn’t tell me we were going swimming so I have nothing to swim in.” He can’t argue with that.
“You’re telling me you’re the kind of girl who doesn’t wear underwear?” He smirks, and I gape at him, and those dimples. “Yeah, so go in your bra and panties.”
Wait, so he thought I would come out here and take all my clothes off and swim with him? My insides stir and I get warm thinking about being naked in the water with Hardin. What is he doing to me? I have never, ever had these types of thoughts before him.
“I am not swimming in my underwear, you creep.” I sit on the soft grass. “I’ll just watch,” I tell him.
He frowns. Now only in his boxer briefs, the black material is tight against his body. This is the second time I have seen him shirtless and he looks even better here, under the open sky.
“You’re no fun. And you’re missing out,” he says flatly. And jumps into the water.
I keep my eyes on the grass and pluck a few blades out, playing with them between my fingers. I hear Hardin call, “The water is warm, Tess!” from the stream. From my spot on the grass, I can see the drops of water falling from his now-black hair. He is smiling as he pushes his soaked hair back and wipes his face off with one hand.
For a moment I find myself wishing I was someone else, someone braver. Like Steph. If I was Steph, I would strip down and jump into the warm water with Hardin. I would splash around and climb up the bank just to jump back and soak him. I would be fun and carefree.
But I’m not Steph. I’m Tessa.
“This is one beyond-boring friendship so far . . .” Hardin exclaims and swims closer to the bank. I roll my eyes and he chuckles. “At least take your shoes off and put your feet in. It feels amazing and pretty soon it will be too cold to swim in.”
Putting my feet in wouldn’t be so bad. So I take my shoes off and roll my jeans up enough to dip my feet over the edge and into the water. Hardin was right, the water is warm and clear. I wiggle my toes and can’t help but smile.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he asks, and I can’t help but nod. “So just come in.”
I shake my head and he splashes me with the water. I scoot back and scowl at him.
“If you come in the water, I will answer one of your always-intrusive questions. Any question that you want, but only one,” he warns.
Curiosity gets the best of me and I tilt my head in concentration. There are so many mysteries about him, and here’s a chance to maybe solve one of them.
“This offer expires in one minute,” he says and slips beneath the water. I can see his long body swimming under the clear water. It does look like fun, and Hardin drives a hard bargain. He knows just how to use my curiosity against me.
“Tessa,” he says after his head pops back up above the surface, “stop overthinking everything, and just jump in.”
“I don’t have anything to wear. If I jump in in my clothes, I will have to walk back to the car and ride back soaked,” I whine. I almost want to get in the water. Okay, I know I do.
“Wear my shirt,” he offers, which shocks me, so I wait a second for him to tell me he was joking, but he doesn’t. “Go on, just wear my shirt. It will be long enough for you to wear in here and you can keep your bra and panties on, if you wish,” he says with a smile. I take his advice and stop thinking.
“Fine, but turn around and do not look at me while I am changing—I mean it!” I try my best to be intimidating, but he just laughs. He turns around and faces the opposite direction, so I lift my shirt over my head and grab his as quickly as I can. Slipping it on, I can tell he was right, since it reaches down to the middle of my thighs. I can’t help but admire the way his shirt smells, like faint cologne mixed with a smell I can only describe as Hardin.
“Hurry the hell up or I will turn around,” he says, and I wish I had a stick to throw at his head. I unbutton my jeans and step out of them. Folding my jeans and shirt neatly, I put them next to my shoes on the grass. Hardin turns around and I tug at the bottom of his black T-shirt, trying to pull it as far as it will go.
His eyes widen and I watch them rake down my body. He takes his lip ring between his teeth and I notice his cheeks flush. He must be cold, because I know it couldn’t possibly be me he is reacting to.
“Um . . . come in the water, yeah?” he says, his voice raspier than usual. I nod and walk slowly to the bank. “Just jump in!”
“I am! I am!” I yell nervously, and he laughs.
“Get a little running start.”
“Okay.” I step back a little and start to run. I feel foolish, but I am not letting my tendency to overthink ruin this. As I reach my last stride, I look at the water and stop with my feet right on the edge.
“Oh come on! You were off to such a good start!” His head falls back in laughter, and he looks adorable.
Hardin, adorable?
“I can’t!” I am not sure what is stopping me; the water is deep enough to jump in, but not too deep. The water in the spot where Hardin is standing goes only to his chest, which means it would reach just under my chin.
“Are you afraid?” His tone is calm but serious.
“No . . . I don’t know. Sort of,” I admit and he walks through the water toward me.
“Sit on the edge and I’ll help you in.”
I sit down and close my legs tightly so he doesn’t see my panties. Noticing this, he grins as he reaches me. His hands grip my thighs and once again I am on fire. Why does my body have to respond to him this way? I’m trying to make us friends, so I need to ignore the fire. He moves his hands to my waist and asks, “Ready?”
As soon as I nod yes, he is lifting me and pulling me into the water, water that’s warm and feels amazing against my hot skin. Hardin lets me go too soon and I stand up in the water. We are closer to the bank so it only reaches just below my chest.
“Don’t just stand there,” he says mockingly, and I ignore him but do walk out a little. The T-shirt bubbles up from the water going under it and I yelp and pull it down. Once it’s positioned, it promises to stay put for the most part.
“You could just take it off,” he says with a smirk and I splash at him. “Did you just splash me?” He laughs and I nod, splashing at him again. He shakes his wet head and lunges for me under the water. His long arms hook around my waist and pull me under. My hand flies up to plug my nose; I haven’t mastered swimming without my nose plugged. When we emerge, Hardin is cracking up, and I can’t help but laugh with him. I am actually having fun, real fun, not that average watching-a-good-movie fun.
“I can’t decide which is more amusing: the fact that you are actually having a good time or the fact that you have to plug your nose underwater,” he says through his laughter.
I get a jolt of bravery and move toward him, ignoring the way the T-shirt floats up again, and I try to push his head underwater. Of course, he is too strong for me and doesn’t budge, so he only laughs harder, showing all of his beautiful white teeth. Why can’t he be like this all the time?
“I believe you owe me an answer to a question,” I remind him.
He looks off toward the bank. “Sure, but only one.”
I’m not sure which one to ask, I have so many. Before I can decide, though, I hear my voice making the decision for me: “Who do you love the most in the world?”
Why would I ask him that? I want to know more specific things, like why is he a jerk? Why is he in America?
He looks at me suspiciously, as if he is confused by my question.
“Myself,” he answers, and goes back underwater for a few seconds.
He pops back up and I shake my head. “That can’t be true,” I say in challenge. I know he is arrogant but he has to love someone . . . anyone? “What about your parents?” I ask and immediately regret it.
His face twists and his eyes lose the softness I was becoming fond of. “Do not speak of my parents again, got it?” he snaps, and I want to smack myself for ruining the good time we were having.
“I’m sorry, I was just curious. You said you would answer a question,” I remind him quietly. His face softens a little and he steps toward me, the water around us rippling. “I really am sorry, Hardin, I won’t mention them again,” I promise. I really don’t want to fight with him out here; he would probably leave me out here alone if I upset him too much.
He takes me by surprise when he grabs my waist and lifts me into the air. I kick my legs and flail my arms, screaming at him to put me down, but he only obliges me by laughing and tossing me into the water. I land a few feet away and when I come above water his eyes are bright with glee.
“You’re going to pay for that!” I yell. He fake-yawns in response, so I swim at him, and he grabs me again—but this time I wrap my thighs around his waist without really realizing it. A shocked gasp falls from his lips.
“Sorry,” I mutter and unhook my legs.
But he grabs them and folds them back around his waist. That electricity between us can be felt again, this time more intensely than ever before. Why does this always happen with him? I shut my mind off from my thoughts and put my arms around his neck to steady myself.
“What are you doing to me, Tess,” he says softly, and rubs his thumb over my bottom lip.
“I don’t know . . .” I answer truthfully into his thumb, which still traces over my mouth.
“These lips . . . the things you could do with them,” he says slowly, seductively. I feel that burn deep in my stomach that makes me putty in his arms. “Do you want me to stop?” He looks into my eyes; his pupils are so dilated that there is only a slight ring around the now dark green of his eyes.
Before my mind can catch up, I shake my head and press my body against his under the water.
“We can’t just be friends, you know that, don’t you?” His lips touch my chin, making me tremble. He continues a line of kisses along my jawline and I nod. I know he is right. I have no idea what this is that we are, but I know I will never be able to only be friends with Hardin. As his lips touch the spot just below my ear, I moan, prompting Hardin to do it again, this time sucking the skin.