After We Collided - Chapter 162
Her words tug at the edges of my heart, threatening to tear it open. “I’m not,” I tell her.
I’m trying to change for her, but not that way. This was for me, and for her.
“Taking them out was just a step in all of this. I’m trying to be a better person, and the piercings remind me of a bad time in my life. A time I want to move on from,” I tell her.
“Oh,” she nearly whispers.
“You liked them, then?” I smile.
“Yes, very much,” she admits.
“I could put them back?” I offer, but she shakes her head.
I’m much less nervous now than I was two hours ago. This is Tessa, my Tessa, and I shouldn’t be nervous.
“Only if you want to.”
“I could put them back in when we . . .” I stop myself.
“When we what?” She tilts her head to the side.
“You don’t want me to finish it.”
“Yes, I do! What were you going to say?”
“Fine, have it your way. I was going to say I could always put them back in and fuck you if they turn you on that much.”
Her horrified expression makes me laugh, and she looks around to make sure no one heard me. “Hardin!” she scolds me, between bouts of red-faced laughter.
“I warned you . . . Plus I haven’t made any perverted comments at all tonight, I should be allowed one.”
“True,” she agrees with a smile and takes a drink of her lemonade.
I want to ask her if that means she could see herself having sex with me again since she didn’t correct me, but I get the feeling this isn’t the right time. It’s not only because I want to feel her again, it’s because I genuinely miss her so fucking much. We’re getting along pretty well, especially for us. I know a lot of it’s because I’m not being a dick for once. It’s not that hard, really. I just have to think before I say shit.
“Your birthday is tomorrow. What do you have planned?” she asks me after a few moments of silence.
Shit.
“Well, um . . . Logan and Nate are sort of throwing me a party. I wasn’t going to go, but Steph said they went all out and spent a shitload of money, so I figured I would at least drop by there. Unless . . . you wanted to do something? I won’t go,” I tell her.
“No, it’s okay. I’m sure the party will be much more fun.”
“You could come?” And because I know her answer, I add, “No one even knows what’s going on between us—except Zed, of course.”
I need to not focus on why Zed knows my fucking business.
“No, thanks, though.” She smiles, but it doesn’t meet her eyes.
“I really don’t have to go.”
If she wants to spend my birthday with me, then Logan and Nate can fuck off.
“No, really, it’s fine. I have stuff to do anyway,” she says and looks away.
Chapter one hundred and three
TESSA
Do you have plans for the rest of the night?” Hardin asks as he pulls into his father’s driveway.
“No, just studying and going to sleep. Wild night.” I smile at him.
“I miss sleep.” He frowns, running his index finger along the ridges on the steering wheel.
“You haven’t been sleeping?” Of course he hasn’t. “Are you . . . have you been . . .” I begin.
“Yeah, every single night,” he tells me, and my heart aches.
“I’m sorry.” I hate this. I hate those nightmares for haunting him. I hate that I’m the only elixir, the only thing to make them stay away.
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he says, but the dark circles under his eyes beg to differ.
Inviting him up would be a terribly stupid idea. I’m supposed to be thinking about what to do with my life from this point forward, not spending the night with Hardin. It’s so awkward that he’s dropping me off at his father’s house; this is exactly why I need to get my own place.
“You could come up? Just to get some sleep. It’s still early,” I offer, and his head snaps up.
“You’d be okay with that?” he asks, and I nod before I let my thoughts invade.
“Sure . . . only to sleep, though,” I remind him with a smile, and he nods.
“I know, Tess.”
“I didn’t mean it like that . . .” I try to explain.
“I got it,” he huffs.
Okay . . .
There is a distance between us that’s both uncomfortable and necessary at the same time. I want to just reach over and push the lone strand of hair that’s fallen onto his forehead, but that would be too much. I need this distance, just like I need Hardin. It’s very confusing, and I know inviting him up won’t be helpful to clearing up that confusion, but I just really want him to be able to sleep.
I give him a small smile, and he stares at me for a second before shaking his head. “You know, I better not. I’ve got some work to do and—” he begins.
“It’s fine. Really,” I interrupt and open the car door to escape my embarrassment.
I shouldn’t have done that. I’m supposed to be distancing myself and here I am being rejected . . . again.
When I reach the door I remember I forgot my dress and heels in Hardin’s car, but he’s already backing out of the driveway by the time I turn around.
AS I WIPE THE MAKEUP from my face that night and get ready for bed, my mind replays our date over and over. Hardin was so . . . nice. Hardin was nice. He was dressed up and he didn’t get into a fight, he didn’t even curse anyone out. This is major progress. I begin to giggle like an idiot as I remember him falling on the ice; he was so irritated, but it was so funny to watch him fall. He’s so tall and lanky and his legs kept wobbling in the skates. It was definitely one of the funniest things that I’ve ever seen.