After We Fell (After 3) - Chapter 162

“Yeah, well, you live there and—”

She interrupts me. “You should go to the gym; you’re obviously wound up.” I can hear the concern in her voice, and the silence that follows proves her point. “Please, Hardin.”

There’s no way I can say no to her. “I’ll call you when I get back,” I agree and hang up the phone.

I CAN’T SAY that I didn’t see fucking Trevor’s fucking annoying, model-fucking-like face imprinted on the black bag as I kicked, punched, kicked, punched for two hours straight. But I also can’t say that it helped, not really. I’m still . . . just revved up. I don’t even know why I’m annoyed except that Tessa isn’t here and I’m not there.

Fuck, this is going to be a long week.

A text from Tessa is waiting for me when I reach my car. I hadn’t expected to work out for so long, but I clearly needed it.

Been trying to stay awake but I’m worn out 😉 her message reads. I’m thankful for the darkness outside that conceals the stupid-ass grin on my face from her corny innuendo. She’s so damn endearing without even trying.

I nearly ignore a message from Landon reminding me that I’m running low on groceries. I haven’t bought actual groceries for myself since . . . ever. When I lived in the frat house I just ate the shit that other people bought.

However, Tessa may be upset if she finds out I’m not feeding her dad, and Landon won’t hesitate to tattle on me . . .

Somehow I find myself pulling into Target instead of Conner’s for groceries. Tessa is clearly influencing me without even being here. She spends just as much time at Conner’s as she does at Target, even though she can go on for hours explaining to me why Target is much better than any other store. She even expresses this while we’re in the middle of Conner’s. It annoys the shit out me, but I’ve learned to nod at the exact right moments to make her think I’m listening and partly agreeing with her.

Just as I toss a box of Frosted Flakes into a shopping cart, a flash of red hair appears at the end of the aisle. I know it’s Steph before she turns around. Her skanky thigh-high black boots with red laces are a dead giveaway.

Quickly, I go over the two options here. One, I can walk over and remind her what a stupid fucking . . .

She turns to face me before I can go over the second option, which I probably would have preferred.

“Hardin! Wait!” Steph’s voice sounds loud when I turn on my heel and leave the cart in the middle of the aisle. Regardless of the hard workout I just completed, there’s no way that I could possibly control myself around Steph. No fucking way.

I can hear the heavy thud of her boots against the laminate floor as she follows me despite my obvious attempt at avoiding her.

“Listen to me!” she yells when she gets right behind me. When I stop walking, she collides with my back and falls to the floor.

I spin and growl at her. “What the fuck do you want?”

She quickly scrambles to her feet. I notice that her black dress is now dusted white from the dirty floor.

“I thought you were in Seattle.”

“I am, just not at the moment,” I lie. I’m not sure what possessed me to even try to keep a front up with her, but it’s too late to backtrack now.

“I know you hate me now,” she begins.

“First smart thought you’ve had in a while,” I snap out, then get a good look at her. Her green eyes are nearly nonexistent what with the thick lines of black circling them. She looks like shit.

“I’m not in the mood for your crap,” I warn her.

“You never have been.” She smiles.

I clench my fists at my sides. “I don’t have shit to say to you, and you know how I get when I don’t want to be bothered.”

“You’re threatening me? Really?” She raises her arms in front of her, then drops them back down. I stay quiet as images of a barely conscious Tessa swarm my mind. I need to get away from Steph. I would never hurt her physically, but I know all the shit to say to cut her much deeper than anything she could imagine. It’s one of my many talents.

“She isn’t good for you,” Steph has the nerve to say.

I can’t help but laugh at the audacity of this bitch. “You aren’t stupid enough to try to discuss this with me.”

But Steph has never been anything if not sure of herself. Full of herself. “You know it’s true. She isn’t enough for you, and you’re never going to be enough for her.” The heat inside me turns from a simmer to a raging boil as she continues: “You’re going to get bored with her prudish behavior, and you know it. You’re probably already bored.”

“Prudish?” I bark another laugh. She doesn’t know the Tessa who likes to be fucked in front of a mirror and fucks herself on my fingers until she screams my name.

Steph nods. “And she’ll get over this bad-boy fetish she’s got with you and marry a banker or some shit. You can’t be stupid enough to think she’s in this for the long run. I know you saw how she was with Noah, that douche bag made of cardigans. They were like the poster couple for people who belong together, and you know it. You can’t compete with that.”

“And what? You’re implying that you and I would be better?” My voice comes out sounding much less demanding than I planned. She’s prying at my biggest insecurities, and I’m trying my best not to falter.

She rolls her raccoon eyes. “No, of course not.”

“I know you don’t want me—you never did. My point is, I care about you,” she says. I look away from her to scan the empty aisles. “I know you don’t want to believe me, and I know you want to wring my neck for messing with your Virgin Mary, but in that dark heart of yours, you know what I’m saying is true.”