“Oh, I almost forgot,” he says and reaches for the radio.
I look over at him and he holds his finger up to tell me to wait. “I decided to give the Fray another try,” he informs me.
“Really? And when did you decide this?” I question.
“Well, after our first date at the stream, but I didn’t open the CD until last week,” he admits.
“That was not a date,” I tease and he chuckles.
“You let me finger you. I would say that’s a date.”
He grabs my hand as I try to swat him and kisses my palm. I giggle and wrap my fingers around his slender ones. Images of me lying on the wet T-shirt while Hardin gave me my first orgasm flood my thoughts and Hardin smirks.
“That was fun, huh?” he boasts and I laugh.
“Anyway, tell me your evolved opinion on the Fray,” I request.
“Well, they are not so bad, actually. There is one song that really sticks with me.”
Now I am even more curious. “Really?”
“Yeah . . .” he says and his eyes flicker to the road before he presses the button on his radio. Music floods through the small space and I immediately smile.
“It’s called ‘Never Say Never,’ ” Hardin says, as if it’s new information to me and not already one of my favorites.
We listen to the lyrics silently and I can’t fight the silly grin on my face. I know he is slightly embarrassed by playing this song for me, so I don’t discuss it. I simply enjoy this tender moment with Hardin.
The rest of the drive is filled with Hardin flipping through songs on the album, telling me what he thinks of each one. This small but meaningful gesture means more to me than he will ever know. I love these moments when he shows me a new side of himself. This side is one of my new favorites.
When we arrive at his father’s house, the street is full of cars. Stepping out, I feel the crisp wind blow through me, and I shiver. The thin jacket I wore over my dress doesn’t offer me and my small dress much protection, really. Hardin shrugs out of his jacket and lays it over my shoulders. It’s surprisingly warm and smells like him, my favorite scent.
“Well . . . look at you being such a gentleman. Who would have thought?” I tease.
“Don’t make me take you back to the car and fuck you,” he says, and I make a noise between a gasp and squeak, which he finds very amusing. “Do you think you have room in that . . . purse thing . . . to hold my phone?” he asks.
“It’s a clutch, and yes.” I smile and hold my hand out. He places the phone in my palm, and as I push it into the small purse, I notice his background is no longer plain gray. The small screen holds the picture of me that he snapped while I was talking to him in the room. My lips are slightly parted and my eyes are full of life. My cheeks have a warm glow; it’s strange to see myself that way. This is what he does to me—he makes me come alive.
“I love you,” I tell him and close the bag without putting him on the spot about his new background.
Inside, Ken and Karen’s large house is full of people, and Hardin grips my hand tightly after retrieving his jacket and putting it back on.
“Let’s try to find Landon,” I suggest.
Hardin gives me a nod and leads the way. We end up finding his stepbrother in the living room next to the china cabinet that replaced the one Hardin broke the first night I came here. Which seems so long ago. Landon is surrounded by a group of men who all look to be at least sixty, and one of them has his hand on Landon’s shoulder. A smile appears on his face when he spots us, and he excuses himself from their conversation. He looks very handsome in a suit similar to Hardin’s.
“Whoa, I never thought I’d live to see you in a suit and tie.” Landon laughs.
“If you keep talking about it, you won’t live much longer,” Hardin threatens, but there’s humor behind his words as he smiles. I can tell he is warming up to Landon, and that makes me happy. Landon is one of my closest friends, and I really care for him.