his car? How do I miss so much! I need details!” She practically shouts and bounds onto the foot of my bed.
So I go through the whole thing, explaining to her how he showed up here last night and we watched a movie and he fell asleep, how we went to look at cars today—and how I didn’t mention him being there before because I figured that if I insisted she help me keep him away, it would feel odd to admit I’d hung out with him. I don’t say much about his dad except that I am going there for dinner, but she seems more interested in last night anyway.
“I can’t believe he stayed here—that is a huge deal. Like Hardin doesn’t just stay places, ever. And he never lets anyone stay with him. I heard he has nightmares or something, I don’t know. But seriously—what have you done to him? I wish I would have recorded the way he looked when he just came here!” she yells and laughs. “I still don’t think this is a good idea, but you do seem to handle him better than most. Just be careful,” she warns again.
What have I done to him? Nothing, surely. He just isn’t used to being nice, but for some reason he’s being nice to me. Maybe it’s a way to beat me at some game, or prove a point that he can fake manners? I am not sure and it hurts my head to try to figure it out.
I bring up Tristan, and Steph takes the conversation from there. I try to pay attention to her stories from last night’s party: how Molly ended up shirtless (go figure) and Logan beat Nate in a drunken arm-wrestling match (she swears it was one of those things that are much funnier when you’re there). My thoughts drift back to Hardin, of course, and I check the clock to make sure I have enough time to get ready for tonight. It is four o’clock now, so I should start getting ready at five.
Steph talks until five thirty and is ecstatic when I ask her to do my hair and makeup. I am not sure why I am putting such effort into looking okay for a family dinner that I really shouldn’t be going to, but I do anyway. She applies the makeup lightly so you can barely tell it’s there, but it looks great. Natural but pretty. Then she curls my hair the way she did before. I decide to wear my favorite maroon dress, despite Steph’s attempts to have me wear something from her closet. My maroon dress is nice and conservative, perfect for a family dinner.
“At least wear the lace tights underneath, or let me cut the sleeves off it,” she says with a groan.
“Fine, give me the lace tights, I guess. This isn’t that bad, though—it’s formfitting,” I rebut.
“I know, it’s just . . . boring.” She crinkles her nose. She looks more pleased when I put on the tights and agree to high heels. I still have a pair of Toms tucked in my purse from yesterday, just in case.
As six thirty approaches, I realize I am more nervous about the ride to dinner than the actual dinner. I fidget with the tights and practice walking around the room a few times before Hardin finally knocks on the door. Steph gives me a strange smile and I pull the door open.
“Wow, Tessa, you . . . um . . . look nice,” he mumbles and I smile. Since when does he say “um” in every sentence?
Steph escorts us out the door, winks, and exclaims like a proud parent, “You two have fun!”
Hardin flips her off, and she returns the vulgar gesture as he closes the door in her face.
chapter forty-six
The drive to Hardin’s father’s house is nice. The low music in the background of his car feels like a distraction, and I notice the way his hands are gripping the steering wheel a little too hard. He seems on edge during the drive, but I know if he wants to talk about something, he would have no problem calling it out.
I climb out of the car and walk up the steps from the sidewalk. With the sun still in the sky, I can see some old vines creeping up the sides of the house and the small white flowers that join them. Unexpectedly, I hear Hardin’s door open and close, and then his boots on