Chapter 27: Chapter 27

Catherine’s voice is loud, so loud it’s breaking through my sleep. Am I dreaming?

“Hardin! Hardin, please open the door!”

I jump up out of my bed, confused and panicked as the knob on my door jingles. Fists pound against the door.

“Hardin!” the voice screams again.

Is that . . . ?

I unlock the door and yank it open. Tessa’s standing there, her face flushed in horror and her eyes wild with fear. The hair on my neck stands, and I go into instant defense mode.

“Tess?” I wipe my eyes to gain some clarity, trying to dispel the dream, get a focus on what’s going on.

“Hardin, please can I come in? This guy . . .” Tessa looks back down the hallway, so I step out to see what’s she’s so scared of.

Neil is walking toward us, his eyes bloodshot and his shirt stained. He’s disgusting. And when he stumbles into the wall, I see just how drunk he is.

Why is she running from him? Did he . . .

Neil’s eyes meet mine, and he stops immediately. If he knows what’s good for him, he will turn the fuck around and walk away. If not, Tessa and all these people in the hallway—people who didn’t seem to want to help her—might be in for a show.

I look back at her quickly, to make sure he didn’t do anything to cause me to have to hide his body when the police come.

“Do you know him?” she asks, her voice cracking.

I feel my hands shaking at my sides.

“Yeah, get inside.” I lead her into my room and I sit down on my bed. Her gray eyes watch me intensely, and I rub my eyes again. “Are you okay?” I ask.

She looks okay—nervous, maybe, but she’s not crying. This is a good sign . . . I think?

“Yeah,” she says softly. “Yes. I’m sorry for coming here and waking you up. I just didn’t know what—” Tessa’s words come out fast and shaky.

She’s saying sorry for waking me up?

I run my hand over my hair, pushing it back from my forehead. “Don’t worry about it.” I notice the way her hands, like mine, are shaking, and I ask the question that’s been raking at my mind since I opened the door. “Did he touch you?”

Murderous ideas float through my mind. No one would miss Neil, that’s for sure.

“No,” she starts, then hesitates. “He tried, though. I was stupid enough to lock myself in a room with a drunk stranger, so I suppose it’s my fault.”

Her fault? What the fuck?

“It’s not your fault that he did that. You aren’t used to this type of . . . situation.” I try to keep my voice calm and not frighten her further. I’ve seen this happen to a lot of girls in my life. From my own mum, to drunk girls at parties. I had to save Molly’s drunk ass from Neil just last year. I thought he would have learned his lesson when I broke his nose and dislocated his shoulder, but I guess not. He obviously needs a refresher course. Logan will help, just like last time.

Tessa walks toward me, and I pat the empty spot next to me on the bed. She sits down and places her hands in her lap. Her vulnerable expression suddenly makes me realize that I’m wearing nothing but black boxers. I want to put something else on, but I don’t want to draw her attention to the fact, and I don’t want her to feel more uncomfortable since she came in here for escape, for peace.

“I have no plans on getting used to it. This really is the last time I’m coming here—or to any parties, for that matter. I don’t know why I even tried. And that guy . . . he was just so . . .”

She shivers, and tears start falling down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry, Tess,” I whisper, and bring my hand to her cheek. My thumb catches the wet tears as they fall, and she sniffles. It’s such an innocent, vulnerable sound that I try to look away from her, but can’t.

“I hadn’t noticed how gray your eyes are,” I confess.

I haven’t paid much attention to details beyond her breasts and her susceptibility to my games until now. I was too busy, too shallow.

But then I stop myself. No, I’m a liar. I’ve been paying attention to the tiniest things about this girl since the moment I saw her.

My hand still rests on her cheek, and she’s still staring at me, full lips parted. I bring my metal lip ring between my teeth and tug on it the way I always do. Her eyes are glued to my mouth, and just as I pull my hand away, she leans closer, pressing her mouth against mine.

I take a sharp breath, caught completely off guard. What is she doing? What the fuck am I doing?

But I don’t stop. Can’t stop. I’m running my tongue along her soft lips; I’m swallowing her small gasps as I cup her cheeks between my hands. She’s sighing into my mouth, as if she’s relieved to be kissing me. Her skin is hot, her mouth is gentle and nervous, and I move my hands to her hips.

When I taste the vodka on her tongue, I pull back.

“Tess . . .” I breathe into her mouth. She sighs, and I swipe my tongue across her lips, parting them again. I gasp, trying to clear my mind. How did we get to this?

I feel cool, the opposite of the fire inside of me. It feels good. It’s a relief from the constant burn. I’ve never felt this sense of calm before; it’s threatening.

My mind is no longer in charge; the feel of her mouth on mine has taken over all sense. I pull her closer, tightening my grip on her hips, and lie back on the mattress. She climbs up onto my torso and rests her hands on my chest. Her tongue teases mine, never leaving my mouth. She’s so good at this. Fuck, is she good at this.

Her hair falls down onto my skin, and I pull my mouth away from hers. The whimper that leaves her lips when I do this makes me instantly hard. She wants me. Her hands are moving up and down my chest now, testing her limits, I can tell.

I won’t let this go too far. Not tonight. She’s been drinking, and that’s not my thing. I want her—hell, I want to fuck her over and over again. I will feel her, all of her. But not tonight. She’s a virgin, but how far has she gone with her boyfriend? Has he had her like this, on top of him when he’s wearing only boxers, rocking her hips over his, teasing him like this? Is this how she really is with him, only to seem all prim and prude to the outside world?

Has his tongue traced along the soft skin of her neck? By the way she’s gasping under the touch of my tongue against her skin, I would say no. She moans, and I hold her hair as I kiss her neck. I move my mouth lower, gently nipping at her collarbones, and she moans again, saying my name under her breath.