âWhat? You would do that for me?â My voice goes high because Iâm pretty surprised; even if he has been nice for the last hour, this isnât quite what I expected.
âYeah, itâs not a big deal.â He seems a little embarrassed. I am sure he isnât used to doing nice things.
âWow, thank you. Really. I need to get a job or internship soon anyway, and that would literally be a dream come true!â I clap my hands.
He chuckles and shakes his head. âYouâre welcome.â
We pull into a small parking lot next to an old brick building.
âThe food here is amazing,â he says and climbs out of the car. Walking around to the trunk, he opens it . . . and pulls out another plain-black T-shirt. He really must have an endless supply. I was enjoying him being shirtless so much that I forgot he would eventually have to put one back on.
When we get inside we seat ourselves in the fairly deserted place. An old woman walks to the table and goes to hand us our menus, but he waves them off, ordering a hamburger and fries, gesturing like I should do the same. I trust him on this one and order itâminus ketchup, of course.
While we wait, I tell Hardin about growing up in Richland, which, being from England, heâs never heard of. He isnât missing out on much; the town is small and everyone does the same things and no one ever leaves. Everyone except me: I will never move back there. He doesnât offer me much information about his past, but Iâm hopeful and patient. He seems very curious about my life as a child and he frowns when I tell him about my dadâs drinking. I had mentioned it to him before, while we were fighting, but this time I went into a little more detail.
During a pause in the conversation, the waitress reappears with our food, which looks delicious.
âGood, huh?â Hardin asks as I take my first bite. I nod and wipe my mouth off. The food is amazing and we both clear our plates, me being more hungry than Iâve ever been before.
THE DRIVE BACK TO THE DORMS is relaxed. His long fingers rub circles on my leg, and Iâm disappointed to see the WCU sign when we finally hit campus and the student parking lot.
âDid you have a nice time?â I ask him. I feel so much closer to him now than I did a few hours ago. He can be really good when he tries to be.
âYeah, I did, actually.â He seems surprised. âListen, I would walk you to your room, but I donât want to play twenty questions with Steph . . .â He smiles and turns his body sideways to face me.
âItâs fine. Iâll just see you tomorrow,â I tell him. Iâm not sure if I should try to kiss him goodbye or not, so Iâm relieved when his fingers tug on a few loose strands of my hair and tuck them behind my ear. I rest my face in his palm and he leans over and touches his lips to mine. It starts as a simple and gentle kiss, but I feel it warm my entire body and I need more. Hardin grabs my arm and pulls it to gesture for me to climb over the middle divider. I quickly oblige and straddle his lap, my back hitting the steering wheel. I feel the seat recline slightly, giving us more room as I lift his shirt a little to slide my hands under it. His stomach is hard and his skin is hot. I trace my fingers along the ink there.
His tongue massages mine and he wraps his arms around me tightly. The feeling is almost painful, but itâs a pain I will gladly endure to be this close to him. He moans into my mouth as I put my hands farther up his shirt. I love that I can make him moan, too, that I have this effect on him. Iâm really about to get lost in the sensation again when we are interrupted by my phone ringing.
âAnother alarm?â he teases as I pull back and reach into my purse.
Smiling, I open my mouth to say something smart back at him, but when I look at the screen and see itâs Noah, I stop. Looking at Hardin, I can tell heâs figured it out. His expression changes, and fearing that Iâm losing him, this mood, I hit the ignore button and toss my phone back onto the passenger seat. I am not thinking about Noah right now. I push him to the back corner of my mind and lock that door.
I lean back in to continue kissing Hardin, but he stops me.
âI think I better go.â His tone is clipped, and sends worry through me. When I draw back to look at him, his gaze is distant and ice immediately replaces the fire in my body.
âHardin, I ignored it. I am going to talk to him about all this. I just donât know how or whenâbut it will be soon, though, I promise.â I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that I would have to break up with Noah the moment I kissed Hardin that first time. I canât date him if Iâve already betrayed him. It would always hang over my head like a dark cloud of guilt, and neither of us wants that. The way I feel about Hardin is another reason I canât be with Noah anymore. I love Noah, but if I really loved him the way he deserves to be loved, I wouldnât be having these feelings for Hardin. I donât want to hurt Noah, but there is no turning back now.
âTalk to him about what?â he snaps.
âAll of this.â I wave my hands around. âUs.â
âUs? Youâre not trying to tell me youâre going to break up with him . . . for me, are you?â
My head starts to spin. I know I should climb off his lap but I am frozen.
âYou donât . . . want me to?â My voice comes out as a whisper.
âNo, why would you? I mean, yeah, if you want to dump him, go for it, but donât do it on my behalf.â
âI just . . . I thought . . .â I start to fumble my words.
âI already told you that I donât date, Theresa,â he says.