couldn’t hurt . . . Stealing a peek before I can stop myself, I instantly regret it. Hardin’s arm is hooked around Molly’s shoulders.
Jealousy tears through me—my punishment for looking at him when I shouldn’t be. Of course they are probably messing around again. Or still. They probably never stopped. I remember how comfortable she was straddling him at the party, and I swallow down the bile rising in my throat. Hardin is free to do whatever or whoever he pleases.
“She does look great, doesn’t she?” Steph encourages them and they all nod.
I can feel Hardin’s eyes on me but I can’t look over at him again. He is wearing a white T-shirt that I’m sure lets his tattoos show through, and his hair is perfectly messed up, but I don’t care. I don’t care how good he looks or how skanky Molly is dressed.
She’s so irritating, with her stupid pink hair and her skanky clothes. She is a slut. I’m surprised by my thoughts and my anger toward her, but it’s true. And I really don’t like her. I don’t think I’ve actually ever called anyone a slut, even in my head.
So of course she picks right now to compliment me. “You do look good, girl, better than ever before!” she says and then leans into Hardin’s chest.
I make eye contact with her and fake a smile.
“Mind if I have a sip?” Zed asks, but grabs my cup before I really answer.
I let him drink out of my glass, which I’m usually against, but I am so uncomfortable right now that I can’t think straight. He gulps down half my Coke and I nudge him.
“Sorry, babe, I’ll order you another,” he says smoothly. He really is very attractive and looks more like a model than a college student. If he didn’t have so many tattoos, he probably would be a model.
A noise comes from the other booth, and my eyes dart to Hardin. He clears his throat loudly, staring at me with blazing eyes. I want to look away, but I can’t. I’m caught in his gaze as Zed lifts his arm up and rests it on the back of the booth, directly behind me.
Hardin’s eyes narrow and I decide to have a little fun.
Remembering that he was pretty adamant about me not hanging out with Zed before, I lean into Zed ever so slightly. Hardin’s eyes go wide, but he quickly recovers. I know how immature and ridiculous this whole thing is, but I don’t care. If I have to be around him, I want him to be as uncomfortable as I am.
The biker woman returns and takes everyone’s food order. I go with a burger and fries, minus the ketchup, and everyone else orders hot wings. She brings Hardin a Coke and the rest of them another round of beers. I am still waiting on my Coke but I don’t want to be rude by pointing that out to the woman.
“They have the best wings here,” Zed informs me and I smile at him.
“So are you going to the bonfire next weekend?” I ask him.
“I don’t know, it’s not really my scene.” He takes a drink of his beer and brings his arm down from the booth to rest fully over my shoulder. “Are you going?”
I don’t look his way, but I imagine Hardin’s irritation at this. Truth is, I do feel guilty flirting with him this way, and I’ve never really tried to flirt with anyone before, so I’m sure I am terrible at it. “Yeah, with Landon.”
Everyone bursts into laughter. “Landon Gibson?” Zed asks, still laughing.
“Yeah, he’s my friend,” I snap. I don’t like the way they are all laughing at him.
“He would go to the bonfire! He is such a lame,” Molly says, and I glare at her.
“No, he isn’t, actually. He is really cool,” I say in his defense. I understand that my definition of cool is not the same as theirs, but mine is better.
“Landon Gibson and cool do not belong in the same sentence,” Molly says and brushes Hardin’s hair back off his forehead.
I hate her.
“Well, sorry if he isn’t cool enough to hang out with you guys, but he is . . .” I start to shout and sit up straighter in the booth, knocking Zed’s arm off my shoulders.
“Whoa, Tessa, calm down. We are just teasing,” Nate says and Molly smirks at me. I get the feeling she doesn’t care for me much, either.