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After (After 1)

Page 143

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“Good thing we have an iron,” I finally say. When I look into his trunk, something catches my eye. “You never got rid of those sheets?” I ask.

“Oh . . . yeah. No, I was going to, but I forgot,” he says and looks away.

“Okay . . .” I feel a little uneasy about his reaction.

We haul a load of stuff up the stairs, and right when we reach the top, the pizza guy rings our bell. Hardin goes back down to meet him, and when he comes back up the aroma coming from the box is heavenly. I didn’t realize how hungry I’d gotten.

We eat at the table, and it’s strange but nice to be eating dinner with Hardin in our place. We’re quiet as we devour the delicious pizza, but it’s the good kind of silence. The kind that tells me we’re home.

“I love you,” he says as I put our plates into the dishwasher.

I turn and respond, “I love you,” just as my phone vibrates loudly on the wood table. Hardin looks over and taps the screen. “Who is it?” I ask him.

“Noah?” he says as both a declaration and a question at the same time.

“Oh.” I know this isn’t going to go well.

“He says it was ‘nice talking to you today’?” His jaw clenches.

I walk back over and grab the phone, practically wrestling it out of his grip. I could have sworn he was going to crush it in his hand.

“Yeah, he called me today,” I tell him with false confidence. I was going to mention it to him. I just haven’t found the right time.

“And . . .” He raises his eyebrow.

“He was just telling me that he saw my mother and he was just seeing how I am doing.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know . . . just to check on me, I guess.” I shrug and sit down in the chair next to him at the table.

“He doesn’t need to be checking on you,” he growls.

“It’s not that big a deal, Hardin. I’ve known him half my life.”

His eyes grow colder. “I don’t give a shit.”

“You’re being ridiculous. We just moved in together and you’re worried about Noah calling me?” I scoff.

“You have no reason to be talking to him; he probably thinks you want him back since you answered the call.” He runs his hands through his hair.

“No, he doesn’t. He knows that I am with you.” I try my best to fight my temper.

He gestures wildly at my phone. “Then call him right now and tell him not to call you again.”

“What? No! I’m not doing that. Noah hasn’t done anything wrong, I have already hurt him enough—we both have—so, no. I will not say that to him. There is no harm in me being friends with him.”

“Yes there is,” he says, his voice rising. “He thinks he is better than me, and he will try to take you from me! I’m not stupid, Tessa. Your mom wants you with him too—I won’t let him try to take what is mine!”

I step back and look at him with wide eyes. “Would you listen to yourself? You sound like a lunatic! I am not going to be hateful to him just because you feel like you have some insane claim on me!” I storm out of the kitchen.

“Don’t walk away from me!” he booms, following me into the living room.

Leave it to Hardin to start a fight with me after the amazing day we have had. But I’m holding my ground on this. “Then stop acting like you own me. I will try to compromise and make an effort to listen to you more than I do now, but not when it comes to Noah. I would immediately stop talking to him if he tried to make a move or say anything inappropriate, but he didn’t. Besides, you obviously need to just trust me.”

Hardin stares at me, and I wonder if his energy is dissipating when at last he simply says, “I don’t like him.”

“Okay, I get that, but you have to be reasonable. He is not plotting to take me away from you; he isn’t like that. This is the first time he has even tried to contact me since I ended things with him.”

“And the last!” Hardin snaps. I roll my eyes and head into the small bathroom. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m going to take a shower, and when I get out I hope you’re done acting like a child,” I say. I’m proud of the way I am standing up to him, but I can’t help but feel bad for him. I know he is just afraid to lose me to Noah; he has this deep jealousy because of the way Noah and I “look” together. On paper Noah is better for me, and Hardin knows that, but I don’t love Noah, I love Hardin.

Hardin follows me into the bathroom, but when I start to undress he turns and leaves, slamming the bathroom door on his way out. I take a quick shower and when I get out Hardin is lying across the bed in just his boxers. I stay quiet as I open the drawers to find pajamas.

“You’re not going to wear my shirt?” His voice is low.

“I . . .” I notice that he folded it and put it on the table next to the bed. “Thanks.” I pull it over my head. The familiar minty scent almost makes me forget that I’m supposed to be mad at him. But when I look over at him and his dark mood, I remember all too well. “Well, this was a great night,” I huff and take my towel back to the bathroom.

“Come here,” he says when I return.

Hesitantly, I walk over to him and he sits up at the end of the bed, pulling me to stand between his legs.

“I’m sorry.” He looks up at me.

“For . . .?”

“Acting like a caveman,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh. “And for ruining our first night here together,” he adds.



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