Chapter 165: Chapter 165

“You said you were . . . and that gave someone an idea—”

“Gave who the idea?” Molly interrupts.

“Me . . . gave me the idea,” he admits. His eyes never leave mine. Which doesn’t make this any easier. “That . . . it could be fun to make . . . to make a bet.” His head falls, and tears pour from my eyes.

“No,” I choke and take a step backward.

Confusion rams into my already-jumbled thoughts, disrupting any attempt to make sense of them, to make sense of what I’m hearing. Confusion is quickly replaced by a burning mixture of pain and anger. All of the memories flooding through me pile and piece together . . .

“Stay away from him.” “Be careful.” “Sometimes you think you know people, but you don’t.” “But Tessa, I need to tell you something.”

All of the small remarks that were made by Molly, Jace, and even Hardin himself play over and over. There was always something in the back of my mind, a feeling that I was missing something. All of the air seems to be sucked out of the small room, and I find myself almost gasping as the reality of all this sets in. There were so many clues; I just was too blinded by Hardin to see them.

Why would he take it this far? To have me live with him?

“You knew?” I turn to Steph. I can’t look at Hardin any longer.

“I . . . I was going to tell you so many times, Tess,” she says, her eyes brimming with guilty tears.

“I didn’t believe it when he claimed he won, even with the condom,” Jace snickers, enjoying the show.

“Right? Me, either! The sheets, though. I mean, how can you deny blood on the sheets!” Molly laughs.

The sheets. That’s why they were still in his car . . .

I know I should be saying something, anything, but I can’t find my voice. Everything is still moving around me; people in the bar are eating and drinking, not noticing the naïve girl ten feet away from them having her heart shattered. How is it possible that time still moves as I stand here watching Tristan bow his head, watching Steph cry, and, most of all, watching Hardin watch me.

“Tessa, I am so sorry.” He takes a step toward me, but I can’t even move my feet to run away like I need to.

Molly’s harpy voice breaks through the air. “You know, there is a sort of drama here that everyone has to appreciate. I mean, remember last time we were all here and Steph gave Tessa that ridiculous makeover, and Hardin and Zed were trying to battle over who took her back to her room?” She laughs, then continues: “Then Hardin showed up to your room, right? With that vodka! You thought he was drunk! Do you remember when I called him when he was there?” For a moment she looks at me like she actually expects I’ll answer her. “But really he was supposed to win the bet that night. He was pretty cocky about it, but Zed kept saying you wouldn’t give it up that quick. I guess Zed was right, but you still gave it up quicker than I thought you would, so I suppose it’s a good thing I didn’t bet any money . . .”

Molly’s terrible sounds and Hardin’s eyes are the only thing in the bar.

I have never felt this way before. This level of humiliation and loss is worse than I could ever have imagined. Hardin has been playing me this entire time; this was all a game to him. All the hugs, the kisses, the smiles, the laughs, the “I love you’s,” the sex, the plans—and fuck if this doesn’t burn like nothing else in the world. He had every move planned, every night, every single detail, and everyone knew except me. Even Steph, who I thought was becoming a friend. I glance at him, allowing myself a moment of weakness during the shock, and I wish I hadn’t. He’s just standing there—standing there like my entire world isn’t crashing around me and he hasn’t completely humiliated me in front of everyone.

“You’d be happy to know that you were worth a pretty penny, though, even though Zed tried to bitch out a few times. But with Jace, Logan, and Zed’s money, I hope he at least bought you dinner!” Molly says, laughing.

Jace finishes his beer and howls. “I’m only disappointed that I missed the infamous I Love You! announcement in front of everyone. I heard that was a killer.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Tristan surprises everyone by yelling. If I wasn’t numb, he may have surprised me, too. “Fuck you guys. She has already had enough!”

Hardin takes another step. “Baby, please say something.”

And with his little “baby” plea, my brain finally connects with my mouth. “Don’t you fucking dare call me that! How could you do this to me? You . . . you . . . I can’t . . .” I have so many things in my head to say, but they just won’t come out. “And I won’t say anything, because that’s what you want.” I sound much more confident than I feel inside. Inside I am burning, and my heart is on the floor, underneath Hardin’s boot.

“I know I messed up—” he begins.

“You messed up? You messed up?” I scream. “Why? Just tell me why. Why me?”

“Because you were there,” he says. And his honesty only breaks me further. “And a challenge. I didn’t know you, Tessa. I didn’t know that I would fall in love with you.”

His mention of love carries with it the opposite feeling than it has the past few weeks, and I can taste the bile in the back of my throat. “You’re sick. You’re fucking sick!” I scream and rush to the door.

This is too much for me. Hardin’s hand wraps around my arm and I jerk away, turning and slapping him. Hard.