What does this mean to me? âI donât think I can answer that, not yet. Iââ
âThought so,â he says, his voice slightly angry.
âI just donât know . . .â
âItâs fine, I get it. You still love him.â
âItâs only been nine days, Zed, I canât help it.â I keep managing to make new messes, each one bigger than the last.
âI know, Iâm not saying that you can or will stop loving him. I just donât want to be your rebound. I just started dating someoneâI havenât dated anyone since I met you, and I finally met Rebecca. Then, when I drove you home and saw the way you reacted to me dating someone, I started thinking . . . I know Iâm an idiot, but I started thinking you didnât want me to move on or something.â I look away from his handsome face and stare out the window.
âYou arenât my rebound . . . I wanted to kiss you just now; I just donât know what Iâm thinking or doing. Nothingâs made sense to me for the last nine days, and I finally stopped thinking about him when I kissed you and it felt amazing. I felt like I could do this. I could get over him, but I know that itâs not fair for me to use you that way. Iâm just confused and irrational. Iâm sorry for making you cheat on your girlfriend; that wasnât my intention. I justââ
âI donât expect you to move on so soon. I know how deep his claws are into you.â
He has no idea.
âJust tell me one thing,â Zed says and I nod. âTell me that youâll at least try to allow yourself to be happy. He hasnât even called you, not once. Heâs done so much shit to you and he hasnât even tried to fight for you. If that were me, Iâd be fighting for you. I would have never let you go in the first place.â He reaches across and tucks an errant lock of hair behind my ear. âTessa, I donât need an answer right now, I just need to know that youâre ready to try to be happy. I know you arenât ready for any type of relationship with me, but maybe someday you will be.â
My mind is racing, my heart is racing and aching all at once, and the air has been sucked out of the car. I want to tell him that I can try and I will try to allow myself this, but the words wonât come. That small smile that Hardin has on his face in the mornings when I finally get him to wake up after complaining about my alarm clock, the way his raspy morning voice says my name, the way he tries to force me to stay in bed with him and I end up squealing and running from the room, the way he likes his coffee black just like me, the way I love him more than anything in the entire world and I wish he could be different. I wish he could be exactly the same, only differentâit doesnât make sense to me, and I know it wonât make sense to anyone else, but thatâs the way it is.
I wish I didnât love him as much as I do. I wish he hadnât made me fall in love with him.
âI get it. Itâs okay,â Zed says, and he tries his best to smile but fails miserably.
âIâm sorry . . .â I say, and mean it more than he could ever know.
He climbs out of the car and shuts the door behind him, and Iâm left alone, again.
âFuck!â I scream and hit my hands against the steering wheel, reminding me of Hardin once again.
Chapter eighty-five
HARDIN
I wake up soaked in my own sweat again. I had forgotten how miserable it was to wake up this way nearly every night. I had thought the sleepless nights were a thing of the past, but now the past is haunting me yet again.
I glance at the clock: itâs six in the morning. I need sleep, real sleep. Uninterrupted sleep. I need her, I need Tess. Maybe if I close my eyes and pretend that sheâs here, Iâll be able to go back to sleep . . .
I close my eyes and try to imagine her head on my chest as I lie on my back. I try to remember the way her hair always smells like vanilla, the way she breathes heavily in her sleep. For a moment I feel her, feel her warm skin against my bare chest . . . Iâm officially going fucking crazy.
Fuck.
Tomorrow will be better, it has to be. Iâve been thinking that for the last . . . ten days now. If I could just see her one more time, it wouldnât be so bad. Just once. If I saw her smile one more time, I could live with myself for letting her go. Will she be at Christianâs party tomorrow? Seems pretty likely . . .
I stare at the ceiling and try to imagine what sheâd be wearing if she was to go. Would she wear the white dress that she knows I love so much? Will her hair be curled and tucked behind her ear or will she pull it back? Will she wear makeup even though she doesnât need to?
Goddammit.
I sit up and get out of bed. There is no way I can go back to sleep. When I get downstairs, Mike is sitting at the kitchen table, reading the paper.
âGood morning, Hardin,â he says to me.
âHey,â I mumble back and pour myself a cup of coffee.
âYour mum is still asleep.â
âYou donât say . . .â I roll my eyes.
âYour mum is really happy to have you here.â
âYeah, sure. Iâve been a dick the entire time.â
âYeah, thatâs true. But she was glad to have you open up to her. Sheâs always been so worried about you . . . until she met Tessa. Then she wasnât so worried anymore.â
âWell, guess sheâll have to be worried again.â I sigh. Why is he trying to have a fucking heart-to-heart with me at six in the fucking morning?
âI wanted to bring something to your attention,â he says and turns to me.
âOkay . . . ?â I eye him.