After We Fell (72 page)

Whore?

Zed shrugs nonchalantly. “He said that no one else will ever have you, and he was awfully proud of himself that you stuck around even after he told you about sleeping with Molly after the two of you started hanging out.”

The mention of Hardin and Molly stings—Zed knew it would. And that's exactly why he said it.

“We've already dealt with that. I don't want to talk about Hardin and Molly,” I say through gritted teeth.

“I just want you to know what you're dealing with. He's not the same person when you're not around.”

“That's not a bad thing,” I retort, fighting back. “You don't know him.” I'm relieved when we pull onto the access road and into the outskirts of the city, signaling that we're less than five minutes away from Christian's place. The sooner this car ride is over, the better.

“You don't either, not really,” he says. “You spend all of your time fighting with him.”

“What's your goal here, Zed?” I ask. I hate the direction our conversation has taken, but I don't know how to bring it back to neutral territory.

“Nothing. I just thought that after all this time and all the shit he puts you through, you'd see the truth.”

A thought strikes me. “Did you tell him you were coming here?”

“No.”

“You're not fighting fair here,” I say, calling him out.

“Neither is he.” He sighs, desperately trying to keep his voice down. “Look, I know you'll defend him until you're blue in the face, but you can't blame me for wanting to have what he has. I want to be the one you're defending, I want to be the one that you trust, even though you shouldn't. I'm always there for you when he isn't.” He rubs his hand over his facial hair and takes another breath. “I'm not fighting fair, but neither is he. He hasn't from the beginning. Sometimes I swear the only reason he's so attached to you is because he knows that I have feelings for you, too.”

This is exactly why Zed and I will never be able to have a friendship. Regardless of his sweetness and understanding, it will never work. He hasn't given up, and I suppose there's honor in that. However, I can't give him what he wants from me, and I don't want to feel like I have to explain my relationship with Hardin every time I see him. He's been there for me, it's true, but only because I allowed him to be.

I say, “I don't know if I have enough left of me to give to you, even as a friend.”

Zed looks over at me with an even expression. “That's because he's drained you.”

I stay silent and stare out the window at the pine trees lining the road. I don't like the tension I'm feeling right now, and I'm fighting back some tears when I hear Zed mutter, “I didn't want tonight to end up this way. Now you'll probably never want to see me again.”

I point out the window. “It's this driveway.”

An awkward and tense silence fills the cab of the truck until the massive house comes into view. When I look over at him, Zed is staring wide-eyed at Christian's place.

“This is even bigger than the other house, the one I picked you up from before,” he points out, trying to ease the tension.

In an effort to do the same, I begin to tell him about the gym, the spacious kitchen, the way Christian can control what's going on in parts of the house with his iPhone.

And then my heart leaps into my throat.

Hardin's car is parked just behind Kimberly's sleek Audi. Zed spots it at the same time that I do, but he doesn't appear to be affected by it. I can feel the color draining from my face as I say, “I better get inside.”

As we park, Zed says, “Again, I'm sorry, Tessa. Please don't go inside upset with me. You have enough going on, I shouldn't have made you feel any worse.”

He offers to come inside to be sure everything is okay, but I brush it off. I know Hardin will be pissed—beyond pissed—but I'm the one who created this mess, so I need to be held responsible for cleaning it up.

“It's okay,” I reassure him with a fake smile and climb out of his truck with a promise to text him when I can.

I'm aware of my slow strides as I walk to the door, but I don't make an effort to move faster. I'm trying to go over what I should say, whether or not I should be angry with Hardin or apologize for seeing Zed again, when the door opens.

Hardin steps out wearing his dark blue jeans and a plain black T-shirt. Despite the fact that it has only been two days since I last saw him, my pulse quickens and I ache to be closer to him. I've missed him so much in the few days that we've been apart.

His face is set in stone, and his icy gaze follows Zed's old truck as it disappears from view. “Hardin, I—”

“Get inside,” he scolds me.

“Don't tell—” I begin.

“It's cold; come inside.” Hardin's eyes are blazing, and the
heat in them keeps me from arguing. He surprises me by gently resting his hand on the small of my back as he leads me inside the house, past where Kimberly and Smith are playing some card game in the living room, and into my bedroom without a word.

Calmly, he closes the door behind him and turns the lock. Then he looks down at me, and my heart nearly bursts when he asks, “Why?”

“Hardin, nothing happened, I swear. He said there was a change of plans, and I was so relieved, because I thought he wasn't coming, but instead he said that he'd arrived a day early and wanted to grab dinner.” I shrug, partly to calm myself down. “I didn't know how to say no.”

“You never do,” he spits, holding my gaze.

“I know you went to his apartment yesterday. Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because you didn't need to know.” His breathing is harsh, barely controlled.

“You don't get to decide what I need to know,” I challenge him. “You can't keep things from me. I know about your mother's wedding, too!” I blurt.

“I knew how you would react.” He throws his hands up, trying to defend himself.

I roll my eyes, stomping toward him. “Bullshit.”

He doesn't even flinch. The veins in his arms are visible under the rare spots of white skin, soft blue laced with the black ink. His fists are tightly balled. “One thing at a time.”

“I will be friends with who I want to be friends with—and you won't keep going behind my back, acting like a child throwing a damn tempter tantrum,” I warn him.

“You said you wouldn't go near him again.”

“I know. I didn't get it before, but after spending time with him today, I made my own choice not to be friends with him. It's not because of you.”

I can see him flinch in surprise a little at that, but he maintains his dark intensity. “Why's that?”

I look away, a little ashamed. “Because I know he's a trigger for you, and I shouldn't keep pushing you by seeing him. I know how much it would hurt me if you saw Molly . . . or any other female, for that matter. That being said, you don't get to control my friendships, but I can't lie and say that I wouldn't feel the same way if I were you.”

He crosses his arms and breathes out roughly. “Why now? What did he do to make you suddenly change your mind?”

“Nothing. He didn't do anything to me. I just shouldn't have taken this long to get it. We have to be equals—neither of us can hold the power.”

I can tell by the glow in his green eyes that he wants to say more, but instead he just nods. “Come here.” He opens his arms for me the way he always does, and I'm quick to wrap myself in them.

“How did you know that I was with him?” I press my cheek against his chest. His minty scent invades my senses, pushing out all thoughts of Zed.

“Kimberly told me,” he says into my hair.

I frown. “She really doesn't know how to keep her mouth shut.”

“You weren't going to tell me?” His thumb presses under my chin and lifts my head up.

“Yes, I was, but I'd rather have told you myself.” I suppose that I'm grateful for Kimberly's honesty; it's hypocritical of me to only want her to be honest with me and not with Hardin. “Why didn't you come find us?” I ask. I assumed if he knew that I was with Zed, that's exactly what he would have done.

“Because,” he breathes, staring into my eyes, “you kept going on about the cycle, and I wanted to break it.”

My heart swells at his honest and thoughtful answer. He really is trying, and it means so much to me.

“I'm still mad,” he adds.

“I know.” I touch his cheek with my fingertips, and his arms tighten around me. “I'm pissed, too. You didn't tell me about the wedding, and I want to know why.”

“Not tonight,” he warns.

“Yes, tonight. You got to say your piece about Zed, and now it's my turn.”

“Tessa . . .”
His lips compress into a hard line.

“Hardin
 . . .”

“You're infuriating.” He releases me and paces across the floor, putting a distance between us that I can't stand.

“So are you!” I fire back, following his movements to get closer to him.

“I don't want to talk about the fucking wedding right now; I'm already livid and barely controlling myself as it is. Don't push me, okay?”

“Fine!” I say loudly, but give in. Not because I'm afraid of what he'll say, but because I just spent two and a half hours with Zed, and I know Hardin's anger is only serving to mask the anxiety and pain I've caused him by doing so.

I
pull open my dresser drawer and dig out clean panties and a matching bra. “I'm going to go shower. Kimberly wants to leave at eight, and it's already seven,” I tell Hardin, who's sitting on the edge of my bed with his elbows resting on his knees.

“You're still going?” he scoffs.

“Yes. I told you before, remember? That was the whole reason you wanted to come here, so I didn't have to go alone.”

“That's not the only reason I came,” he says defensively. I raise a speculative brow at him, and he rolls his eyes. “I didn't say it's not
a
reason, but it's not the only one.”

“You still want to come, right?” I ask, dangling my underwear suggestively.

This is rewarded with a slight smirk. “No, I never wanted to come, but if you're going, so am I.”

I give him a wide smile, but when I leave the room, he doesn't follow. Which surprises me. I find myself kind of wishing he would this time. I don't know where we stand at the moment. I know he's pissed about Zed, and I'm upset that he's hiding things from me again, but overall I'm thrilled that he's here, and I don't want to waste our time fighting.

I wrap a towel around my hair since I don't have the time to wash and dry it before we leave. The hot water relieves some of the tension in my shoulders and back but doesn't do much to
clear my head. I need to work myself into a better mood within the hour. Hardin will be brooding all night, I'm sure. I want us to have a nice time out with Kimberly and Christian—I don't want any awkward silence or public fighting. I want us to get along, and I want to be in a happy mood, both of us. I haven't had a Seattle nightlife experience since I moved here, and I want my first to be as fun as possible. My guilt regarding Zed refuses to subside, but I'm relieved when my irritation and irrational thoughts slide down the drain along with the scalding water and suds of soap.

The moment I shut off the shower, Hardin knocks at the door. I wrap a towel around myself and take a deep breath before answering. “I'll be ready in ten minutes. I need to try to do something with my hair,” I say, and when I look into the mirror, there's Hardin standing behind me.

He squints at the frizzy mess on my head. “What's wrong with it now?”

“It's out of control.” I laugh. “It won't take long.”

“You're wearing
that
?” He eyes the uncomfortable black dress, which is hanging on the shower curtain, since I was trying to de-wrinkle it a bit. The last time I wore it, at the “family vacation,” it led to a disastrous night . . . well, week.

“Yes, Kimberly said there's a dress code.”

“What kind of dress code?” Hardin looks down to his stained jeans and black T-shirt.

I shrug and smile to myself, imagining Kimberly telling Hardin to change his outfit.

“I'm not changing,” he tells me, and I shrug again.

Hardin's eyes don't leave my reflection in the mirror the entire time that I put on my makeup and wrestle with a flatiron and my hair. The steam from the shower has made it curl in a terrible way; there's just no hope for it. I end up pulling it back into a low bun. At least my makeup actually looks really good. An even exchange for such a bad hair day.

“Are you staying until Sunday?” I ask him as I put on my underwear and step into my dress. I want to make sure the tension between us is under control, and we don't spend the entire night arguing.

“Yes, why?” Hardin coolly responds.

“I was thinking that instead of spending Friday here in Seattle, we could go back and I could see Landon and Karen. Your father, too.”

“What about yours?”

“Oh yeah . . .” I had momentarily forgotten about my father staying with Hardin. “I've been trying really hard not to think about that situation until you can tell me more about it.”

“I don't know if it's a good idea . . .”

“Why not?” I ask. I miss Landon so much.

Hardin rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “I don't know . . . All this shit with Steph and Zed . . .”

“Hardin, I'm not going to see Zed again, and unless Steph shows up at the apartment or your father's house, I won't be seeing her either.”

“I still don't think you should go.”