After We Fell (15 page)

“They just left.”

“What's wrong?” she asks.

“
What's wrong?
Hmm . . . let's see. Zed came to your office, and your drunk of a dad just brought some creepy fucking dude into our apartment.” A brief pause, and I add, “Are you sure your dad only drinks?”

“What?” The shoulder of her T-shirt—well,
my
T-shirt—slips down to bare her shoulder. She pushes it back up and sits down on the couch. “What do you mean, ‘only drinks'?”

Looking at her, I don't want to plant the seed that her dad's not only a homeless drunk but a drug addict, too. He doesn't look as bad as the asshole who just came to pick him up, but I still have a weird feeling about this shit. Even so, I just say, “I don't know. Never mind, I was just thinking out loud.”

“Okay . . .” she quietly answers.

I know her well enough to be certain that the thought of her father being on drugs hasn't crossed her mind and that she'd never guess I'm thinking it from what I said.

“Are you mad at me?” Her voice is soft, too timid.

I know she's waiting for me to explode any moment. I have been purposely avoiding conversation with her for a reason. “No.”

“Are you sure?” She looks at me with those big, beautiful eyes, begging for me to say something.

They do the trick.

“No, I'm not sure. I don't know. I'm really mad, yeah, but I don't want to fight with you over it. I'm trying to change, you know? Keep my shit together and not flip out on you over every little thing.” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “Even though this
isn't
a little thing. I've told you time and time again not to see Zed, but you still do.” I look at her coldly—not to be mean, but because I have to see how her eyes react when I add, “How would you feel if I did that to you?”

She practically crumples before my eyes. “I would feel terrible. I know I've been wrong for seeing him,” she says without defense.

Well, I wasn't expecting that. I was expecting her to yell at me
and stick up for that shithead Zed, like always. “Yes, you have,” I say, then sigh. “But if you say you told him it's done, then it's done. I've done everything I can do to keep him away from you, but he doesn't stop. So you have to be the one to keep him away.”

“It's done, I swear. I won't see him again.”

She looks up at me, and I shudder at the thought of her on the phone earlier, her crying over their goodbye.

“We aren't going to that party on Saturday,” I say, and her face falls.

“Why not?”

“Because I don't think it's a good idea.” Actually, I
know
it isn't.

“I want to go.” She presses her full lips into a line.

“We aren't going,” I tell her again.

Her spine shoots up a little, and she pushes back. “If I want to go, I'll go.”

Fuck, she's so fucking stubborn.
“Can we please just discuss it later? We have shit to do if you want me to go on this fucking stupid-ass boat shit.”

She smiles playfully. “Could you fit any more curse words in that sentence?”

And I smile as I have a vision of her bent over my knee for being so smarmy. She'd probably like that, actually: lying across my lap, my hand hitting her skin, not too hard, just hard enough to turn the skin pink . . .

“Hardin?”

My perverted thoughts interrupted, I push them away . . . for now. She would hide behind her hands if I told her what I was daydreaming about.

I
shake his arm again, roughly this time. “Hardin! You have to get up—
now
. We're going to be late.”

I'm already dressed and ready, our bags have already been placed in the car, and I've given him as much time to sleep as possible. Heck, last night I even did all the packing, not that he would've done a very good job of it anyway.

“Not . . . going,” he groans.

“Please get up!” I whine and tug at his arm. God, I wish he was a morning person like me.

He covers his face with the pillow, and I grab it and toss it onto the floor. “No, go away.”

I decide to take a different approach and bring my hand to the front of his boxers. He fell asleep in his jeans last night, and I had a hell of a time tugging them down his legs without waking him. But now he's been left vulnerable, and manipulable.

My fingernails gently graze the inked skin just above the waistband . . . He doesn't budge.

I dip my hand fully into his boxers, and he opens his eyes. “Good morning,” he says with a lusty smile.

I remove my hand and stand up. “Get up.”

He yawns dramatically and looks down at his boxers and says, “Looks like I . . . already . . . am.” When he doesn't look back up, I see he's pretending to be asleep again, and soon he starts making loud cartoon snoring noises. It's inconvenient, but
adorable and playful; I hope he remains this way for the rest of the week—really, I'll settle for the rest of the day.

I reach into his boxers again, and when his eyes pop open to look at me like an eager puppy, I say, “Uh-uh,” and pull my hand back out.

“Not fair,” he whines.

But he does get up, pulling yesterday's jeans back on. He walks over to the dresser and grabs a black shirt, looks at me, then puts it back and pulls out a white one. He runs his fingers through his hair, making it stand straight up before pushing it back down.

“Do I have time to brush my teeth?” His tone is sarcastic, and his voice is raspy from sleep.

“Yes, hurry up. Brush your teeth so we can go,” I instruct and do a quick walk-through of the apartment to make sure everything is in order.

Minutes later, Hardin joins me in the living room, and we finally leave.

KEN, KAREN, AND LANDON
are waiting for us in the driveway when we arrive.

I roll down the window. “Sorry we're a few minutes late,” I apologize as we pull up next to where they stand.

“It's okay! We figured we'd all ride together since it's quite a drive,” Karen says with a smile.

“Fuck, no,” Hardin whispers next to me.

“Come on.” She gestures to the black SUV filling the other half of the driveway. “Ken bought me this for my birthday, and we never use it.”

“No; hell, no,” Hardin says a little louder.

“It'll be fine,” I say quietly, to him.

“Tessa . . .” he begins.

“Hardin, please don't make this difficult, please,” I beg. Maybe, just maybe, I blink my eyes seductively, hoping that will work.

After looking at me for a moment, his eyes finally soften. “Fine. Fuck, you're lucky I love you.”

I squeeze his hand. “Thank you.” Then I turn back to Karen. “Okay,” I say with a smile and turn off my car.

Hardin puts our bags into the back of Karen's SUV, scowling the whole time.

“This is going to be fun!” Landon laughs as I climb into the car.

Hardin sits next to me in the back row after making a comment about not having to sit next to Landon. As Ken pulls onto the street, Karen turns on the radio and begins to sing along softly.

“This is some shit straight from a corny comedy,” Hardin says and puts his hand over mine before pulling them both to his lap.

W
isconsin!” Karen says loudly, clapping her hands together, then pointing at a passing truck.

I can't help but laugh at Hardin's horrified expression. “Oh my fucking God,” he huffs, laying his head back on the seat.

“Would you stop? She's having fun,” I scold him.

“Texas!” Landon calls out.

“Just open the door, and I'll jump out here,” Hardin adds.

“So dramatic,” I tease and look over at him. “So she plays the license-plate game? I'd think you could relate—you and your friends seem awful fond of silly games, too, like Truth or Dare.”

Before Hardin can say something smart back, Karen exclaims, “We're so excited for you two to see the boat and the cabin!”

I look over at her. “Cabin?” I ask.

“Yeah, we have a small cabin on the water there. I think you'll like it, Tessa,” she says.

I'm so relieved to find that I won't have to sleep on the boat, like I'd assumed.

“I'm hoping the sun stays out—this weather is nice for February. It's even better in the summer. Maybe we can all come back?” Ken asks, looking in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah,” Landon and I answer in unison.

Hardin rolls his eyes. Apparently he's going to stick to his pouty, childlike persona for the remainder of the drive.

“Do you have everything ready for Seattle, Tessa?” Ken asks.
“I spoke with Christian yesterday, and he's really looking forward to you coming.”

I feel Hardin's eyes on me, but I'm not going to let that stop me. “I plan to start packing when we get back, but I've already enrolled in my classes at the new campus,” I tell him.

“That campus is nothing compared to mine,” Ken teases, and Karen laughs. “No, it really
is
a nice campus. If you have any trouble, let me know.”

I smile, happy to have him on my side. “Thank you, I will.”

“Come to think of it,” he goes on, “we're getting a new professor from the Seattle campus next week. He's replacing one of our religion professors.”

“Oh, which one?” Landon asks, looking at me with a raised brow.

“Soto, the young one.” Ken looks in the rearview mirror again. “He's your professor right now, isn't he?”

“Yeah, he is,” Landon answers.

“I don't remember where he's going, but I think he's transferring out,” Ken says.

“Good thing,” Landon remarks under his breath, but I catch it and smile at him. Neither one of us really likes Professor Soto's style and lack of academic rigor. Though I did enjoy the journaling he had us do.

Karen's voice is soft, and it slides between my thoughts. “Do the two of you have a place already?”

“No. I had an apartment, or so I thought, but the woman seems to have dropped off the face of the earth. It was perfect, too, right in my budget and close to the office,” I tell her.

Hardin shifts a little beside me, and I want to add that he isn't joining me in Seattle, but I'm hoping to use this trip to convince him otherwise, so I stay quiet.

“You know, Tessa, I have a few friends in Seattle. I can see about getting you a place before Monday, if you'd like,” Ken offers.

“No,” Hardin says quickly.

I look over at him. “
Actually
, I
would
like that,” I say and meet Ken's reflected gaze. “Otherwise I'll be spending a fortune staying at a hotel until I can find a place.”

Hardin waves his dad off. “It's fine. I'm sure Sandra will call her back.”

That's strange
, I think and look at him. “How'd you know her name?” I ask.

“What?” He blinks a couple of times. “You've only said it one hundred times.”

“Oh,” I say, and he spreads his hand across my thigh, squeezing gently.

“Well, just let me know if you want me to call anyone,” Ken offers again.

AFTER ANOTHER TWENTY MINUTES
or so, Karen looks back at us, excitement bursting through her expression. “So how about I Spy?”

Landon's lips turn up into a vibrant smile. “Yeah, Hardin, how about I Spy?”

Hardin leans against me, his head on my shoulder, and his arm wraps around me. “I'm good. I mean, it sounds wonderful, but it's nap time for me. I'm sure Tessa and Landon would love to play.”

Despite his mocking the game, the public intimacy warms me and makes me smile. I remember a time when Hardin would only hold my hand under the dinner table at his father's house, and now he doesn't seem fazed to be holding me in front of his family.

“Okay! I'll go first,” Karen says. “I spy with my little eye . . . something . . . blue!” she squeals.

Hardin chuckles lightly, against me. “Ken's shirt,” he whispers and nuzzles further into me.

“The navigation screen?” Landon guesses.

“No,”

“Ken's shirt?” I ask.

“Yes! Tessa, it's your turn now.”

Hardin pinches me a little in acknowledgment, but I'm focused on Karen's massive smile. She's having way too much fun with these cheesy games, but she's too sweet for me to not to play along.

“Okay, I spy something”—I look down at Hardin—“black.”

“Hardin's soul!” Landon shouts, and I laugh.

Hardin opens one eye and sticks up a middle finger at his stepbrother.

“You're right!” I exclaim, giggling.

“Well then, the lot of you can shut up so me and my black soul can get some sleep,” he says, eyes closed.

We ignore him and continue, and only a few minutes later Hardin's breathing turns heavy and he begins to snore lightly into my neck. He mumbles for a moment before sliding down, putting his head on my lap and bringing his other arm around my waist. Landon seems to take that as a cue and lies across the middle seat, joining Hardin in sleep. Even Karen times out and ends up falling asleep.

I enjoy the silence as I stare out the window, watching the lush scenery shoot past us.

“We're getting close, only a few more miles,” Ken says to the car, to nobody in particular.

I nod in acknowledgment and run my fingers through Hardin's soft hair. His eyelids flutter lightly under my touch, but he doesn't wake up. I trail my fingers down his back, slowly, taking in the view of him sleeping so peacefully, his arms wrapped tightly around my body.

Soon we turn onto a small street, the entirety of it lined with large
pine trees. Silently, I watch out the window as we turn onto another street and round a corner, bringing the coast into view with sudden immediacy. It's beautiful.