As we drive to the house, he puts his hand on my thigh and again says, “Stop overthinking it.” I hear his phone vibrating again, but he ignores it. This time I can’t help but be a little suspicious of why he isn’t picking up the phone, but I push the thought from my head.
“What are you afraid of?” he asks when I don’t respond.
“I don’t know. What if something happens with my internship and I can’t afford it? Or if something happens with us?”
He frowns but recovers quickly. “Babe, I already told you I would pay for the place. It was my idea, and I make more, so let me do this.”
“I don’t care how much you make. I don’t like the idea of you paying for everything.”
“You can pay cable, then?” He smirks.
“Cable and groceries?” I offer. I can’t decide if I am speaking hypothetically anymore or not.
“Deal. Groceries . . . that sounds nice, doesn’t it? You could have my dinner ready every night when I get home.”
“Excuse me? It would be the other way around.” I laugh.
“We could rotate days?”
“Deal.”
“So you’re moving in with me then?” I don’t think I have ever seen a deeper grin on his perfect face.
“I didn’t say that, I was just . . .”
“You know I will take care of you, right? Always,” he promises.
I want to tell him that I don’t want to be taken care of, that I want to earn things and pay for my own share of things, but I get the feeling he isn’t talking just financially.
“I am afraid this is too good to be true,” I finally admit to Hardin and myself.
He surprises me by saying, “Me, too.”
“Really?” I am relieved that he feels the same way.
“Yeah, the thought crosses my mind all the time. You are too good for me and I am just waiting on you to realize it, and hoping that you don’t,” he says, his eyes focused on the road.
“That’s not going to happen.” And I mean it.
He doesn’t say anything.
“Okay.” I break the silence.
“Okay what?”
“Okay. I will move in with you.” I smile.
He lets out a breath that sounds like he has been holding it for hours. “Really?” His dimples pop as he shakes his head and flashes a smile.
“Yeah.”
“You have no idea what this means to me, Theresa.” He puts his hand over mine and squeezes. Hardin turns onto his street and my mind races. We are really doing this, we are moving in together. Me and Hardin. Alone. All the time. In our own place. Our own bed. Our everything. I am scared as hell, but my excitement is stronger than my nervousness, for the moment at least.
“Don’t call me Theresa or I will change my mind,” I tease.
“You said only friends and family can call you that. I think I’ve earned it.”
He remembers that? I think I said that right after I met him. I grin. “Point well made. Call me whatever you want.”
“Oh, babe, I wouldn’t say that if I were you. I have a whole list of perverted things I would love to call you.” His smile is wicked, and I find myself wanting to hear his dirty words, but I stop myself from asking and squeeze my legs together. He must notice, because his smile grows.
Just as I’m coming up with a line about how perverted he is, the words are lost in my throat. Pulling up to the house, we see that the yard is littered with people and the street is full of cars.
“Damn it, I didn’t know they were having a party tonight. It’s fucking Tuesday. See, this is the shit—”
“It’s fine. We can just go straight to your room,” I interrupt, trying to defuse his irritation.
“Fine,” he sighs.
When we walk into the crowded house, Hardin and I head straight for the stairs. Just as I begin to think I made it without running into anyone I know, I spot a mound of greasy, sandy blond hair at the top of the stairs. Jace.
chapter eighty-three
Hardin notices Jace the same time that I do and turns to look at me, then back at Jace, tensing immediately. For a second it seems like Hardin might turn us around, but then Jace definitely spots us, and I know Hardin won’t risk antagonizing him by backing away now. All around us, the party rages, but all I can focus on is Jace’s mischievous smile, which flat-out gives