“Chawton. I want to see Jane Austen’s farmhouse. Or Paris. I would love to see where Hemingway stayed while he was there.”
“I knew you would say those places. I could take you there.” His tone is serious.
“Let’s just start with Seattle.” I giggle.
“I mean it, Tessa. I could take you anywhere you want to go. Especially England. I did grow up there, after all. You could meet my mum and the rest of my family.”
“Um . . .” I actually have nothing to say. He is so strange, he introduces me as his “friend” an hour ago, and now he’s taking me to England to meet his mother.
“Let’s just start with Seattle?” I laugh.
“Fine, but I know you would love to drive through the English countryside, see the house Austen grew up in . . .”
I can’t imagine how my mother would react to me leaving the country with Hardin. She would probably lock me in her attic and never let me out. I still haven’t spoken to her since she stormed out of my dorm after threatening me in an attempt to get me to stop seeing Hardin. I want to avoid that inevitable argument for as long as I can.
“What’s wrong?” he asks and dips his head down in front of my face.
“Nothing, sorry, I was just thinking of my mother.”
“Oh . . . she’ll come around, babe.” He sounds so sure, but I know her better than that.
“I don’t think so, but let’s talk about something else.”
We start talking about the wedding, but Hardin’s phone vibrates in his pocket after a moment. I shift off him so he can get it out, but he makes no move to do so.
“Whoever it is can wait,” he says, which makes me happy.
“Will we be staying at your dad’s house Saturday after the wedding?” I ask. I need to get my mind off my mother.
“Is that what you want to do?” he asks.
“Yeah, I like it there. This bed is tiny.” I crinkle my nose and he laughs.
“We could stay at my place more often. What about tonight?”
“I have my internship in the morning.”
“So? You can bring your stuff with you and get ready in an actual bathroom. I haven’t been to my room in a while; they are probably already trying to rent it out,” he jokes. “Don’t you want to take a shower without thirty other people in the same room?”
“Sold.” I smile and climb off the bed.
Hardin helps me pack my things for tomorrow and I grow more and more excited to go to the frat house. I hated that house, and still pretty much do, but the thought of a shower in an actual bathroom and Hardin’s large bed is too appealing to pass up. He grabs the red set of lingerie out of my dresser and hands it to me with a series of eager nods, and I flush before shoving it in my bag. I pack one of my old black skirts and a white blouse, wanting to space out my new dresses.
“Red bra with white shirt?” Hardin points out. I pull the white shirt out and grab a blue one instead.
“You could bring extra clothes with you so you won’t have to bring so much next time,” he suggests. He wants me to keep clothes at his place. I love how it’s a given that we will stay the night together every night.
“I guess I could,” I say and grab my new white dress and a few other random things.
“You know what would make it much easier?” he asks, and pulls my bag over his shoulder as we head outside.
“What?” I already know what he is going to say.
“If we both lived at the same place.” He smiles. “We wouldn’t have to decide which place to stay at and you wouldn’t have to pack a bag. You would have a private shower every day—well, not totally private.” He winks playfully. And just when I think he’s done, when we get to his car and he opens the door for me, he adds, “You could wake up and make your own coffee in our kitchen and get ready for the day and we could meet up at our place at the end of every day. None of this roommate or frat house shit.”
Every time he says “our” my stomach flutters. The more I think about it, the better it sounds. I am just terrified of moving too fast with Hardin. I