I bring her mouth to mine, and she continues to rock against me. I know she can feel how hard I am, how badly I want her.
âHardin . . . stop,â she moans, her tongue still running gently over mine. âHardin!â she repeats. I pull back and look at her. Her lips are swollen, sinfully pink, and her eyes are wild.
âWe canât,â she says. Her fingers leave my skin, and the dull burn turns to ice.
I knew it wouldnât last; it was just a . . . a heat-of-the-moment type thing. It was a moment I wanted to keep going, but everything must end, in the end. I pull myself up onto my elbows, and she rolls off of me, to the other side of the bed.
âIâm sorry, Iâm sorry.â Her voice is low, raspy, and she sure as hell doesnât sound sorry by the heavy breaths falling from her lips and the way her eyes canât seem to look away from my mouth.
Looking at her, I think about this book I read where the women in the town vow to stop saying sorry in their everyday lives. It was quite interesting the way they realized 90 percent of the sorrys they were giving were for things they werenât responsible for. If Tessa lived in that town, she would fit right in.
âSorry for what?â I say as calmly as possible, and stand up to dig through the messy drawer full of black T-shirts. As I pull one on, I see her looking at me, down to my boxers. And she blushes.
âFor kissing you . . .â
Why would she apologize for kissing me? If she doesnât want to do anything with me, I donât want her to, but I didnât give her any signals that I didnât want the same thing.
âIt was just a kissâI kiss people all the time.â I purposely keep my voice neutral, since I donât want to make her feel worse. She already regrets this and is ready to run for the hills any second. I know it, and if she does, I have to chase her. I canât strike out this early in the game when Iâve already made progress. Iâve had her hands on me, Iâve tasted her tongue. Iâve already had her panting, wanting more. I have the upper hand over Zed now, and I canât let that slip. Sheâs going to make a way bigger deal out of this than need be. If I comfort her now, sheâs much more likely to trust me, and that trust will lead to me having another chance to get even further next time.
She stares at the floor. Again. Sheâs already so full of regret that she canât even look at me? I donât like how this feels.
She canât regret it already; if she doesnât get past this, Iâm fucked and Zed is going to win.
âCan we not make a big deal of it, then?â Tessa asks.
âTrust me, I donât want anyone to know about this either. Now stop talking about it.â
She winces at my words, and I wish I could take them back. Iâm terrible at this shit.
âSo youâre back to your old self, I see?â Her eyes are sharpening now, preparing for a battle. I want to snap at her, but I keep my mouth shut.
She doesnât know a damn thing about me. It pisses me off that she thinks after a few encounters with me sheâs some sort of Hardin Scott fucking expert. She thinks sheâs so much better than me, and sheâs terrified that people might find out she kissed me because . . . well, Iâm me and sheâs Little Miss Perfect. I canât keep my mouth shut.
âI was never anyone else,â I tell her. âDonât think because you kissed me, basically against my will, we have some sort of bond now.â
I can feel my words slam into her like a goddamn battering ram, and she gets to her feet. Her fury is clear in her wide eyes. A modern-day Joan of Arc, getting ready to burn me at the stake.
âYou could have stopped me,â she seethes. Her hands ball into tights fists that she must think are made of fire.
My mouth reacts before I can think of anything to say: âHardly.â
Tessa sighs and brings her hands to cover her face. I look away. Sheâs so emotional, and thatâs not even the strange part. The act of being emotional is normal, I suppose, but sheâs just so open to it. Iâm not her friend or her family, and here she is throwing her emotions around like Iâve known her my whole life. Sheâs not afraid to show me how she feels; she doesnât seem to mind being exposed like this.
Theresa Young is such a maddening mystery to me. Sheâs so open and fragile, yet guarded and sharp like glass. I canât figure her out. Itâs pretty damn strange. The ease she seems to feel about allowing me to see her this way is slightly endearing, but itâs still strange.
âYou can stay in here tonight since you donât have anywhere else to go,â I quietly offer.
Tessa shakes her head, her hands on her full hips, and she scowls at me. I want to tell her that maybe Iâm sorry for being harsh to her, maybe I sometimes say shit that I shouldnât, but why use energy on a stranger? She doesnât know me, and she never will.
âNo, thanks.â
When she disappears down the hallway, I grip the doorframe and silently wish her a good nightâs sleep, knowing that I wonât get one.
âTessa,â I quietly call after her, unsure if I actually want her to hear.
ten
He was always stubborn from the beginning. She pushed buttons he didnât know he had and made him think of the world in a different way. He never expected anything to come from this game of his and he never knew how each glance from her, each smile she awarded him with, was changing him. He grew protective of her from early on, and he didnât recognize when his protection turned to control. He tried to fight it, but he wasnât strong enough until it was too late.
Itâs been twenty minutes since she stormed off, and I canât find her anywhere. Why canât she be like Molly or any of the other girls Iâve hooked up with, and come running back? How is it that sheâs so strong-willed?
Knowing herâthe little bit that I do know about this girlâleads me to believe sheâs going to shatter every preconceived thought I had about girls in general.
Fucking yay. This will be fun.
âShe left, dude.â Logan walks into the kitchen with a bottle of vodka in his hands.
Left? She wouldnât actually leave. She doesnât even know how to get back to campus, and her ancient phone wonât be any help if sheâs lost.
âNo way.â I shake my head and reach for an empty cup. When I turn the faucet on, Nate is looking at me with one brow raised and a stupid grin on his face.