A/N: Hey lovelies - first thing's first, happy birthday to Hardin! I really love that his birthday is February 5th, because mine is February 6th and that's super cool to me (and probably only me, let's be honest lol). I also wanted to address a review that I felt was valid but also more critical ~ I don't have to rewrite each chapter in both point of views, and sometimes I'll try to keep it moving along, but a lot of readers tend to like both point of views in detail (following characters' thoughts, feelings, etc.) so I know a few of you may not find it necessary to "quote" both chapters similarly, but I think their thoughts make more sense when I do write it that way! Hopefully that makes sense. Enjoy!
Chapter Twenty
TESSA
I CANNOT believe that I have agreed to yet another frat party. I try to convince myself I'm going to appease Steph, but the truth is that I'm going to see Hardin—as if I haven't seen him nearly every night this week, already, the little voice in my head smugly reminds me.
I've also managed to avoid all of my mother's phone calls, as well as Noah's. It's been harsh… my mother has threatened to show up to the campus and demand I answer her questions, but I've texted her back I'm just busy with school at the moment so she's backed off a bit. As for Noah, his texts and calls are relentless and I've opted for leaving my phone on silent when Hardin stops by.
"Do these shorts make my butt look flat?" Steph asks, breaking me from my thoughts.
Steph stands in her full-length mirror, arching her body at a nearly back-breaking degree to see all of her angles. She has a very sharp figure, which her outfit compliments well—it's very revealing. I think about how my mother would react if she saw me in such an outfit; I'd be on home arrest.
Her denim shorts cut off just past her hips, with rips and holes throughout the limited material. She is wearing a pair of tall, jet black boots that elongate her already ridiculously long legs, and her top is cropped just beneath her chest, leaving very little to the imagination. She frowns at her reflection.
"Do you think this is high enough?" She asks me.
"Really high," I confirm, earning a snarky, playful eye roll.
"You should borrow something of mine," she says, "Go out of your comfort zone a little! Noah will never have to know that you just wanted a little fun." She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, and I try to ignore the burn in my chest at the mention of Noah.
"What other dresses do you have?" I ask, redirecting this conversation. Steph nods appreciatively, and turns back into her closet to dig out my options.
Nate drives us to the frat house—a car ride with him and Steph is entirely different from a car ride with Hardin and Steph.
Nate has a similar taste in music as Hardin and Steph, but when it comes to blasting it, Nate doesn't. He prefers the background noise, but he talks to keep the conversation going until we arrive at the frat house.
"See you inside!" Steph says, stepping out of the car. She waves at two girls standing outside on the porch and crosses the lawn to hug one of them.
Nate turns off the car and glances at me in the mirror; he asks, "You and Hardin?"
He knows? I nod cautiously, but breathe a sigh of relief when he grins at me, nodding.
"Did he tell you?" I ask. Nate shrugs.
"I kinda figured it out myself, talking to him," he casually replies, "I'm sure you know, he's the easiest guy to get a straight answer from."
I can't help my laugh, and nod, "Oh yes… I'm fully aware, Hardin is so easy to talk to."
Nate grins, and says, "I mean, Molly kinda made it obvious the other night when we were all hanging out, but I don't think anyone really thought about it too much."
"She knows, too?" I ask, a surge of panic forms in my throat—if Molly knows, how doesn't Steph?
Nate shrugs, "I don't know for sure if she does. She's always just been jealous of anybody that Hardin pays more attention to than her."
I try to ignore my own jealous thoughts that Hardin could be leading Molly on in any way, making her think she still has a chance. It's selfish of me, but Hardin has admitted his feelings and I couldn't bear the thought that they could ever be false.
Nate steps out of the car and opens the door for me, helping me out. Inside, I find Steph and Nate wanders off to try and find the others. Steph introduces me to a few guys from the frat; they seem nice enough, but even through the cloud of cologne I can tell they've been drinking for a while now.
I try to keep a conversation with them, but they are more interested in college football stats and Steph's flirting, so I search the room for an escape. I know Hardin is around, I can practically sense his eyes looking for me, too. He's easy enough to find, leaning against the door frame to the kitchen, staring at me already.
Steph breaks my focus, handing me a red cup. I take it and hold it close to my lips, so it looks like I plan on drinking, too. I take a sip to make Steph happy. Hardin continues to stare at me, making it obvious as his eyes rake down my body at the outfit Steph got me into.
"Game… living room… next round is starting…" I hear Steph's voice say, and then it registers with me that she's talking to me. She stares at me expectantly while I can only blink in response.
"What?" I ask. Steph rolls her eyes, then smiles.
"Earth to Tessa," she says, "You ready to play beer pong?"
"I think I'll just watch," I shrug, watching as a pout replaces her smile.
She grabs my shoulders and whines, "I need a beer pong partner!"
"Maybe Molly wants to play?" I try. Hardin scoffs in the doorway, and Steph sighs, shaking her head. Where is Molly?
"She went upstairs," Steph says, as if answering my thoughts, "she's gonna be preoccupied for a while. Come on, one game? Please?"
"She doesn't want to play, Steph," Hardin speaks up, crossing the small distance of the kitchen. He stands on the other side of the island, resting on his hands.
Steph gives him a look.
"Fine, then you be my partner," She retorts. Hardin shakes his head—I think he enjoys making Steph mad, sometimes.
"No," Hardin replies, "I won't drink if I win or lose, and I don't want to play."
"Please, please?" Steph begs, turning back to me. She gives me the biggest puppy dog eyes I've ever seen, and I almost give in until Hardin cuts in again.
"Zed needs a partner," he says. Steph must realize we're not going to say yes, because she sighs and steps back, grabbing her red cup off the counter.
"Ugh, fine!" She rolls her eyes, "but if we lose, Tessa's my partner next round." I appreciate that she believes I would be a better partner than Zed, but I've only played once before, and I really didn't know what I was doing.
Steph stalks into the living room, leaving me and Hardin alone in the kitchen, save for a few others who don't pay us any attention.
"Thanks," I tell him, "I didn't think I was going to get away with saying 'no'."
"Well you haven't gotten away with it this far," Hardin smirks—I can't tell if he's referring to my outfit, the fact that I'm here at another party, this relationship we have, or all of it. Maybe all of it. "That's why you're here, I'm assuming."
"I really didn't want to be here," I admit, afraid of his reaction—I don't want him to think he's the reason I didn't want to come. Hardin just nods, so I add, "Steph is very persuasive."
"Persistent is more like it."
"You know, she mentioned that we've been getting along pretty well…" I say as he steps around the island to stand in front of me.
"I wonder why," Hardin smirks, reaching for my hands, "I'm surprised none of these fuckers have mentioned it to her."
"Mentioned what?" I ask playfully. Hardin meets my eyes, the humor in his is clear as day.
"That we're together," he says, pulling me into his chest. The butterflies in my stomach explode into a frenzy at his words and I have to push him back a step to keep from going weak.
"Nobody?" I ask, hoping he doesn't notice how breathless my voice comes out.
"No," Hardin shakes his head, "Not even Molly or Zed."
"Molly knows about us?" Well, that confirms it.
"Yes, does that matter?"
"Is she mad?" I ask. Hardin furrows his brow, giving me an incredulous look.
"She's pissed at me, but why does that matter?" He asks. I don't want to create any more unnecessary conflict—Molly is a very petty, competitive person. I'm really not trying to be the center of her personal attacks. When I go to step back, Hardin tightens his grip just a bit, holding me in place. He dips his head down until he's eye level with me, forcing me to look at him, "Hey, Molly was never anything to me."
"How can you say that?" I ask, shaking my head. He obviously cared enough about her at one point to always spend time with her. What if we don't work out? Would he talk about me the same way? "You have a lot of history with her."
"When I needed to get fucked," Hardin says, harsher than I expected. I flinch at the tone of his voice, and gently pry one of my hands free. Hardin curses under his breath, then adds, "That doesn't mean she mattered to me."
"Why do you talk about her like that?" I ask quietly, looking around to see if anyone has started to pay attention to our conversation. Nobody cares.
"What do you want me to say?" Hardin sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks uncomfortable as he says, "That she does? Or that she did? Would that make you feel better?"
"No," I admit a little too quickly, "I guess not. But you talk about her like she was an object."
Hardin groans, "She knew our deal…"
This deal sounds complicated—and somehow, I think it was easier for Hardin to keep it with no strings attached. Molly seems to be under the impression that Hardin would change his mind someday.
"It's just… off-putting, I guess," I admit, gauging his reaction. From the pieces Hardin has shown me, I know he can be caring and kind at times. I hate to think that he was ever manipulative, or reckless, when it came to other girls' feelings. I know Steph had told me things got messy when girls got attached to Hardin, because they just didn't understand that he had no care for those kinds of commitments. But Hardin was different with me—I could tell. I could see it, he cares in his own way, and I needed to be less strict with putting a label on us right now. Hardin knows me… he knows I'm not like Steph, or Molly, or any of the other girls who were comfortable with this sort of thing.
Hardin breaks me from my thoughts, leaning down to kiss me. It starts out as a tender kiss, his lips just barely touching mine, and then he deepens it, pushing his tongue past my lips until he finds mine.
"Hardin," I gasp, pushing against his chest, "What about Steph…?"
"She'll find out eventually," Hardin says, brushing his knuckles below my jawline, "I don't give a shit… if you don't, either?"
I can't help my smile. I don't feel scared that Steph will find out; if Hardin is ready to admit the truth about us to the others, then so am I. Most of them know, anyway.
I stretch up on my toes to kiss him again, but he seems lost in thought. I reach up to brush the hair off his forehead, and ask, "Are you sure, Hardin? Hardin?"
"What?"
"I asked if you're sure," I repeat.
"Yes," he answers easily, meeting me halfway into another kiss. This one doesn't last as long, but it's just as sweet.
"Do you want to join the other?" I ask. Hardin steps aside and by the way that Steph has resigned herself to the couch, I assume she and Zed lost. Hardin's gaze lingers on all of his friends for a long moment.
"Sure," he replies. He's acting a bit strange now—maybe he isn't ready to admit this yet? Would I be upset if he changed his mind? I don't think so, but I don't really know, either.
Hardin says he's going to get more water before he joins us, so I make my way to the couches, taking the seat across from Steph. Nate plops down on the armrest beside me, scrolling through his phone. Zed turns away from the game of beer pong to join us, about to take the seat next to me when Hardin nearly jumps over the back of the couch to claim the spot first. He gives Zed a look, and Zed rolls his eyes. He looks at me, but I don't know what to say—he almost looks upset… with me?
Hardin wraps an arm around my waist, catching Steph's attention and her jaw drops the moment she realizes Hardin is practically crushing me into his side. We catch Jace's attention, too, and despite the noise from the party the silence between the group is almost deafening.
"Pass the blunt, motherfucker," Nate's voice breaks the tension. He's holding his hand out to Zed. Zed takes a third drag before passing it along. Nate takes a hit and tries to pass it to me, but I shake my head; I've only had a few sips of alcohol, but Hardin told me it's not smart to mix alcohol and marijuana. He offers it to Hardin, but Hardin turns it down too. Nate shrugs and takes another drag before handing it off to Steph.
"Hey Hardin, how are things?" Jace asks. By the way that Hardin tenses beside me, I can't help but wonder if he's done something to make Jace this smug.
"Same old shit," Hardin replies with a shrug.
"Not the way I see it," Jace retorts, eyeing Hardin's arm wrapped around my waist. He tilts his chin up, and adds, "So Molly wasn't just talking crazy shit… when did that happen?"
Hardin's fingers rub slow circles into my hip. It's comforting and maddening at the same time. I feel like a piece of meat in a lion's den, everyone is watching us as Jace waits for an answer. Hardin glances at me for a split second, before he says, "A few weeks now."
Everyone knows now, even Steph. Meaning when this party is over, I'm going to be subjected to Steph's intrusive line of questioning. I feel a bubble of excitement and fear at the thought.
Molly and Logan join the group and look between us; like a picture, frozen in time, everyone seems stuck in their surprise.
"Uh oh," Logan laughs, letting go of Molly's hand, "what'd I miss?"
"Hardin's got himself a girlfriend," Jace smirks, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his legs. He rubs his hands together, and looks right at me, "What'd he have to do to get with you?"
Given the edge to his tone, I get the feeling that he's under the impression I'm just one of Hardin's regular girls. The thought makes me sick to my stomach—it hasn't skipped my mind that that would be everyone else's first thought, too. I feel a brief surge of anger towards Hardin for earning a reputation with girls this way, but I know if I can't look past that, this will never last.
I notice that Jace is looking at me intensely, like he is trying to study my body the way Hardin does—but I know Jace's intentions are bad. He doesn't care about me.
"Well…" I start, feeling a bit brave, "for one he isn't looking at me like a piece of meat. Unlike you." Hardin lets out a laugh behind me, squeezing my hip.
"Hardin's not the romantic type, you know," Jace sneers, "he's an asshole, like me and these fuckers. He thinks with his dick, and you know, when you first started coming around I thought it'd take him longer to get into your pants."
I expected this response. I knew he would base this admission on sex—that I am like Hardin's other girls. I knew this would be their first thought, I'm not oblivious to the long list of ex-flings. I just wish they knew me better than that.
"You're disgusting," I scoff at Jace.
"I'm probably right, though," he continues, ignoring my comment, "I mean, unless you're still a virgin."
It's either I'm a pathetic virgin, or another conquest of Hardin's. Jace will see no difference and I guess neither will the others that have seen this play out before. I need to walk away from Jace's taunting now, while I still can. I shouldn't care what they think, I've tried to make friends here, only to be humiliated every time.
"My virginity is none of your concern," I say, trying to keep my voice even. Jace glances at Hardin, before he holds his hands up in mock-resignation.
"Fair enough. I've got to be honest Hardin, I can't see why you stopped fucking around with Molly for her. Molly's bitchy, but at least she knows her place… this chick's attitude rivals your stubborn ass. How do you put up with that?"
I stop listening after Molly's name—Jace is a disgusting, perverted jerk. He thinks Hardin is incapable of being in a real relationship, and what if he could be right? He's known Hardin longer than me… what if this is a game to Hardin, too? A game everyone is in on, except for me, and I look like a fool.
That can't be it though; the way Hardin is holding me, the way his fingers are caressing my hip in a calm routine, give me a swell or hope that Hardin isn't playing me.
"Enough Jace!" Hardin snaps.
"She's so uptight about everything," Jace continues, smirking, "she seems like she could use a good fuck."
The bile rises to my throat at Jace's suggestion—I get the feeling he'd offer to do the honors just to degrade me further. It's similar to what Hardin said to me out of anger all those months ago.
"Shut the fuck up, Jace!" Hardin yells, startling me out of my nightmare and causing a few of the others to jump in their seats, too.
"Struck a chord," Jace taunts, smirking to himself. Hardin's hands have still on my sides, holding me a bit too tight.
"Knock it off, man," Nate cuts in, anger lacing his voice, "That's fucked up. Don't fucking talk to her like that."
I stand up and head for the stairs, ignoring Hardin's tug on my wrist as he tries to keep me near him. Molly sneers a comment after me and I hear Steph calling my name as I hit the top of the stairs. Hardin's voice booms from downstairs, yelling something I don't catch, just before I lock the bathroom door behind me.
Steph knocks on the door, trying the handle a few times. I let myself fall apart for a moment—every fear overshadows every thought I'd fought so hard to build up.
I feel angry. Angry at Jace for taunting me about my virginity and for talking bad about Hardin. Angry at Hardin for consummating his reputation with so many other girls. And most of all, angry at myself for believing anyone would think any different of me being with Hardin. The tears burn like acid in my eyes, and I silently curse Steph out for getting me to wear make-up again when I should have known I'd be crying at another party.
I look into my reflection's eyes and examine each blotchy patch and every black streak on my cheeks. I shouldn't have come here tonight—maybe Hardin would have left early again, and joined me in the dorm so I wouldn't have to be alone.
Or maybe he'd choose the party over me because this is his kind of scene. I mentally scold myself for thinking so negatively of him—he did tell the truth about us, after all. Maybe, just maybe, he would have done the same if I weren't here, and I could have avoided the backlash safely in my dorm.
I don't know when Steph's knocks stopped, but they're replaced by much louder knocks and Hardin's concerned voice through the wood.
I grab some toilet paper and wet it, dabbing at my cheeks to remove the black stains before opening the door to face Hardin. When I open the door, Hardin's anger dissolved immediately, and he looks at me with sad eyes and Steph is glancing over his shoulder at me.
"Are you okay, Tessa?" She asks softly.
"I think I'm ready to leave," I say, not caring if she's willing to leave or not. I don't want to be at this party anymore, and I don't care if I never come back, "I knew this was a bad idea."
"I'm sorry… don't let Jace get to you," Steph tries to say, "or Molly. They're just…" she trails off, making me nearly scoff that she can't find a good reason for their behavior.
"I'm exactly what Nate said, I'm nothing like any of you," I sigh, "I shouldn't have tried to be. I should have known it was going to come back to bite me for thinking I ever could be."
"No, don't say that!" Steph cries, a sad scowl on her face, "You're my friend… and Nate's.. and Hardin's." Hardin's friend—I'd hate to ask what kind of 'friend'. The friend with benefits kind, according to Jace.
"You're making it worse," Hardin hisses through his teeth, giving her a hard look. Steph stops talking immediately.
"Why does Jace say such awful things?" I ask pathetically.
"You stood up for yourself," Hardin says, stepping closer, "I've never heard anybody talk to him like that before."
"I don't know what came over me," I say, feeling embarrassed for my attitude. Hardin flashes a crooked grin, reaching for me. Steph clears her throat.
"I'll give you guys a minute," she says, then looks at Tessa, "I'll just be downstairs."
"Okay."
Steph disappears down the stairs and when she's out of sight, Hardin brings his hands down to my hips and pulls me against his chest.
"Do you think I made him angry?" I ask quietly.
"Fuck him," Hardin shrugs, then adds, "Don't, actually."
I give him a hard look and he shakes his head, pressing his lips to the top of my head. I sigh against his chest, breathing in his scent.
"Who cares?" Hardin asks, "Jace will get over it."
"I was kind of awful…"
"He was worse," he sighs, "what he said to you…"
"I know," I say to stop him. Hardin knows exactly why it bothers me—there's no need to relive that argument.
"I was an idiot for saying that once," Hardin admits, looking down into my eyes. I bite my lip, nodding slowly.
"Yeah, you kinda were…" I say with a playful smirk. Hardin rolls his eyes, but he breathes a sigh of relief, "I forgave you, though."
"Somehow."
I don't think I could ever hate Hardin—no matter what. Even when he drove me crazy, made me angry, I never hated him.
"We should probably go back downstairs," I suggest.
"We don't have to," Hardin replies, earning a curious look from me. He laughs to himself, shaking his head, "I just mean you don't have to go back down there if you don't want to."
"Oh." I blush. We weren't thinking the same thing.
"If you had something else in mind, though, I'm sure I can help with that," he teases me, squeezing my hips in a playful gesture. I blush harder and shake my head.
"I don't know why I assumed that," I say, pressing a hand to my head. I wipe at my eyes one more time, and ask, "How do I look?"
"Still beautiful, Tess," Hardin replies. I roll my eyes, he barely looked.
"You're not just saying that, I hope."
"Of course not."
"Okay. Then I think I'm ready to go back downstairs now." I say. Hardin nods, and grabs my hand, heading down the stairs first.