âWho said you could stay for another?â I ask and he rolls his eyes.
âCanât drive. Still drunk,â he says with a mischievous grin.
I know he is lying. Heâs mostly sobered up, but heâs right. He should stay. I will deal with whatever Hardin decides to do to me tomorrow, just to be able to spend time with him. I really am pathetic, just like he said. And at the moment, I donât care.
I want to ask him why he came here and why he isnât at his own frat party, but I decide to wait until the movie is over because I know he will turn sour once I begin to question him. Hardin chooses some Batman film that I havenât seen and swears it is the best movie of all time. I laugh at his enthusiasm as he tries to explain the previous movies in the trilogy, but I have no idea what he is talking about. Noah and I always watch movies together, but I have never enjoyed it as much as I do with Hardin. Noah stares at the screen in silence, whereas Hardin banters along, adding hilarious sarcastic entertainment.
âMy ass is numb from your hard floor,â Hardin complains as soon as the movie begins.
âStephâs bed is nice and soft,â I say, and he frowns.
âI wonât be able to see the screen from over there. Come on, Tessa, I will keep my hands to myself.â
âFine,â I groan and scoot over.
He smiles and lies next to me on his stomach mimicking me, bending his knees and putting his feet in the air. Hardin lays his head on his folded hands, which takes away all his rough edges and leaves him looking adorable. The movie is much better than I expected, and I mustâve been more into it than Hardin, because when the credits roll and I look over at him, heâs fast asleep.
He looks so perfect, so peaceful in his sleep. I love the way his eyelids flutter and the way his chest moves up and down and the lovely sigh that leaves his full lips. I want to reach over and touch his face, but I donât. Despite the fact that I should wake him and make him leave, I cover him with my blanket and go lock the door before lying down on Stephâs bed. I glance over at him again and admire the way the dim light from the television illuminates his face. He looks younger and much happier in his sleep.
As I drift to sleep, I realize that Iâve spent the night with Hardin a couple of times now, and never with Noah. My subconscious helpfully reminds me that Iâve done a lot of things with Hardin that Iâve never done with Noah.
Chapter forty-two
The faint sound of buzzing floats through my dream in a steady pattern. Why wonât it stop? I roll over, not wanting to wake up, but the obnoxious sound insists that I do. Iâm disoriented, and forget where I am. And then when I realize Iâm in Stephâs bed, I still almost forget Hardin is in my room.
How do we always end up together? And more important, where is that annoying noise coming from? In the dim light provided by streetlights just outside the window, I follow the noise and it leads to Hardinâs pocket. I feel as if the noise is calling to me in my dreamy state. I debate whether or not to reach into his pocket, my eyes focused on the imprint of the phone in the front pocket of his tight jeans. It stops as I reach my bed so I steal another opportunity to take in how peaceful Hardin looks in his sleep. There is no soft crinkle in his forehead from his constant frowning, and there is no purse to his pink lips. I sigh and turn around only to have the buzzing start again. Iâm just going to grab it, he wonât wake up. I dip my hand down and struggle to reach into Hardinâs pocket. If his pants werenât so tight, I would be able to pull the phone from his pocket . . . but I have no such luck.
âWhat are you doing?â he groans.
I jolt a few feet away from my bed. âYour phone is going off and it woke me up,â I whisper, despite the fact that we are the only people in the room.
I watch silently as he digs into his pocket, his large hand struggling to pull out his phone. âWhat?â He snaps into the mouthpiece when he does get it out, only to swipe his hand over his forehead at whatever response he received.
âI am not coming back there tonight. I am at a friendâs house.â
Are we friends? Of course not, Iâm just a convenient excuse for why he isnât returning to the party. I stand awkwardly and shift my weight from one leg to the other.
âNo, you canât go into my room. You know this. Iâm going back to sleep now, so donât wake me up again. And my door is locked, so donât waste your time trying.â He hangs up, and I instinctively back away. His bad mood is palpable, and I donât want to be on the receiving end of his venom. I crawl onto Stephâs bed and pull the blanket to me.
âSorry that my phone woke you,â he says quietly. âIt was Molly.â
âOh.â I sigh and lie down on my side, facing my bed across the room. Hardin gives me a small smile, as if he knows what Iâm thinking about Molly. I canât ignore the small bubble of excitement that comes from him being here instead of with Molly, even though his actions make no sense to me.
âYou donât like her, do you?â He rolls fully onto his side, his hair messy and everywhere on my pillow.
I shake my head. âNot really, but please donât tell her. I donât want any drama,â I beg. I know I canât trust him, but hopefully he will forget to stir up controversy with this information.
âI wonât. I donât care for her, either,â he murmurs.
âYeah, you really seem to dislike her,â I say just as sarcastically as I can manage.
âI donât. I mean, she is fun and all, but she is quite annoying,â he admits, making that bubble grow a little more.