“Because I don’t have any clothes, and I need to brush my teeth,” I say. When I look at him he has a small smile on his face but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “What’s wrong?” I ask, afraid of the answer.
“Nothing . . . How long will you be gone?”
“Well, I was assuming you would come with me?” As the words leave my mouth, he visibly relaxes. What is with him?
“Oh.”
“Are you going to tell me why you are being weird?” I ask with my hands on my hips.
“I’m not . . . I just thought you were trying to leave. Leave me.” His voice is so small and unlike him that I get the urge to walk over and cradle him. Instead, I gesture for him to come to me and he nods before getting up and standing in front of me.
“I’m not going anywhere. I just need some clothes,” I tell him again.
“I know . . . it’s just going to take a little getting used to. I’m used to you running away from me, not leaving and coming back.”
“Well, I’m used to you pushing me away from you, so we both just have some adjusting to do.” I smile and lay my head on his chest. I feel oddly comforted by his worry. I had been terrified that he would change his mind this morning and it feels good to know he was just as afraid.
Yeah, I guess we do. I love you,” he says, and it hits me just as hard as it did the first time, and the twentieth, last night.
“And I love you, too,” I tell him and he frowns.
“Don’t say too,” he says.
“What? Why?” My doubt is on call, waiting for him to deny me, yet hoping that he won’t.
“I don’t know . . . it just makes me feel like you are just agreeing with me.” He looks down. I remember the promise I made to myself last night that I would do whatever I can to help him conquer his self doubt.
“I love you,” I say and he looks up at me. His eyes soften and he gently presses his lips against mine.
“Thank you,” he says when he pulls away.
I roll my eyes at how flawless he looks in a plain white T-shirt and black jeans. He never wears anything except plain white or black T-shirts and black jeans every single day, but he looks perfect, every single day. He doesn’t need to follow whatever trend is hot; his simple style suits him so well. I put on my clothes from last night and he grabs my purse for me before we head downstairs.
We find Karen and Ken in the living room. “I made some breakfast,” Karen says cheerfully.
I feel slightly uncomfortable with Karen and Ken knowing I stayed with Hardin, again. I know they seem to be perfectly fine with it, and we are adults, but that doesn’t stop my cheeks from blushing.
“Thank you.” I smile and she gives me a curious look; I know I will get some questions when we are in the greenhouse. I walk into the kitchen and Hardin follows. We both fill our plates with food and sit at the table.
“Are Landon and Dakota here?” I ask Karen when she comes in. Dakota will probably be confused seeing me with Hardin again after being with Zed last night, but I shake off the negative thoughts.
“No, they went to Seattle for the day to do some sightseeing. Were you still wanting to work on the greenhouse today?”
“Yes, of course. I just have to run to my room and change my clothes,” I tell her.
“Excellent! I’ll have Ken bring the bags of soil out from the shed while you’re gone.”
“If you wait until we get back, Hardin can help him?” I half-ask, half-offer, looking to Hardin.
“Oh, you will be around today as well?” she asks, her smile growing. How can he not see that people care about him?
“Uh . . . yeah. I was going to just hang out here today . . . I guess. If that’s cool with y-you?” he stutters.
“Of course! Ken! Did you hear that, Hardin is going to be here all day!” Her excitement makes me smile and Hardin roll his eyes.
“Be nice,” I whisper in his ear as he plasters the fakest smile I have ever seen across his face. Then I giggle and kick his foot with mine.
Chapter seventy
I remove my clothes and take a quick shower, even though I’m going to get dirty gardening with Karen. Hardin waits patiently, fiddling through my underwear drawer to keep himself busy. When I’m done, he tells me to pack enough clothes to spend another night with him, which makes me smile. I would spend every night with him if I could.
As we drive back, I ask him, “Do you want to get your car and take it to your dad’s?”
“No, I’m okay. As long as you stop swerving all over the road.”
“Excuse me? I am an excellent driver,” I say defensively.
He snorts but keeps his mouth shut. “So what made you decide to get a car, anyway?”
“Well, I got the internship, and I didn’t want to keep taking the bus or depending on other people to take me places.”
He looks out the window. “Oh . . . did you go alone?”
“Yeah . . . why?”
“Just wondering,” he lies.
“I was alone; that was a bad day for me,” I say and he flinches.
“How many times did you and Zed hang out?” he asks.
Why is he bringing this up now? “Twice: we went to dinner and a movie, then the bonfire. It wasn’t anything for you to worry about.”
“He only kissed you once?”
Ugh. “Yes, only once. Well, besides the time that . . . you saw. Now can we move on from this? You don’t see me asking about Molly, do you?” I snap.
“Okay . . . okay. Let’s not fight. This is the longest we have ever gotten along, so let’s not ruin it,” he says and reaches for my hand. His thumb rubs small circles on my skin.
“Okay,” I say, still slightly annoyed. The image of Molly on his lap makes my vision blur.
“Aww, come on, Tess. Don’t pout.” He laughs and pokes my side.
I can’t help but let out a giggle. “Don’t distract me! I’m driving!”
“This is probably the only time you’ll ever tell me not to touch you.”
“Not likely—don’t be so full of yourself.”
Our laughter blends together and it’s a lovely sound. He brings his hand to my thigh and rubs his long fingers up and down.
“You sure?” his raspy voice whispers and my skin tingles. My body responds to him so quickly, my pulse drumming heavily. I gulp and nod, causing him to sigh and pull his hand away. “I know that’s not true . . . but I’d rather not have you driving off the road, so I’ll just have to finger you later.”
I swat at him, blushing. “Hardin!”
“Sorry, baby.” He smiles, raising his hands in mock innocence and looking out the window. I love when he calls me baby; no one has called me that before. Noah and I had always thought that the ridiculous pet names people called each other were too juvenile for us, but when Hardin calls me something, my blood sings in my veins.
When we get back to his father’s house, Ken and Karen are in the backyard waiting for us. Ken looks out of his element in jeans and a WCU T-shirt. I’ve never seen him dressed so casually, and in fact he looks a little like Hardin this way. They greet us with a smile that Hardin tries to return, but he looks uncomfortable as he shifts on his heels and buries his hands in his pockets.
“Ready when you are,” Ken says to Hardin. He looks just as uncomfortable as Hardin, though he’s more nervous, whereas Hardin seems apprehensive.
Hardin looks at me and I give him an encouraging nod, surprised that I have suddenly become someone he looks at for reassurance. It seems that our dynamic has changed dramatically, making me happy in a way I hadn’t expected.
“We will be in the greenhouse, so just bring the soil in there,” Karen says and gives Ken a small kiss on the cheek. Hardin looks away from them, and for a second I think he may give me a kiss, too, but he doesn’t. I follow Karen to the greenhouse and when we walk inside I gasp. It’s huge, bigger than it looks from outside, and she wasn’t joking when she said it needs a lot of work. It is practically empty.
Dramatically, she puts her hands on her hips with chipper glee. “It is quite the project, but I think we can do it.”
“I think so, too,” I say.
Hardin and Ken come in, carrying two bags of soil each. They are both silent as they drop them where Karen directs before walking back out. Twenty bags of soil and hundreds of seeds and dozens of flowers and vegetable plants later, we have a pretty good start.
BEFORE I REALIZE IT, the sunlight has started to fade and I haven’t seen Hardin in a few hours. I hope he and Ken are both still alive.
“I think we’ve done enough for today,” Karen says and wipes her face. We are both covered in dirt.
“Yeah, I better check on Hardin,” I tell her and she laughs.
“It means a lot to us, Ken especially, that Hardin has been coming around more, and I know we have you to thank for that. I take it that you two worked out your differences?”
“Sort of . . . I guess we did.” I let out a little laugh. “We are still very different.” If only she knew.
She gives me a knowing smile. “Well, different is sometimes what we need. It’s good to be challenged.”
“Well, he is definitely challenging.”
We both laugh and she pulls me in for a hug. “You sweet girl, you have done more for us than you know.” I feel my eyes tearing up and I nod.
“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve been staying overnight. Hardin has asked me to stay again,” I tell her and try not to make eye contact.
“No, of course not. You both are adults, and I trust you’re being safe.”
Oh God. I know my cheeks are a deeper shade of red than the bulbs we just planted. “We . . . uh . . . we don’t,” I stammer. Why am I talking about this with Hardin’s soon-to-be stepmother? I am mortified.
“Oh,” she says, equally embarrassed. “Let’s go inside.”
I follow her into the house, where we both take our dirty shoes off at the door. I can see into the living room, where Hardin is sitting on the edge of the couch and Ken is in the easy chair. Hardin’s eyes immediately find mine and relief flushes through them.
“I’ll make some late dinner while you get cleaned up,” Karen says.
Hardin stands up and walks over to me. He seems glad to be out of the room with his father.
“We’ll be back down soon,” I say and follow Hardin up the stairs.
“How was it?” I ask as we enter his room.
Instead of answering me, he wraps his fingers around my ponytail and brings his lips to mine. We stagger back against the door and he presses his body against me. “I missed you.”
My insides liquefy. “You did?”