Chapter 75 (1/2)

“Yeah . . . I did,” he admits.

“Why the hell would you do that? You can answer Molly’s calls, but you delete my messages from my boyfriend?!”

He winces as I call Noah my boyfriend.

“How dare you play these games with me, Hardin!” I scream, sobbing again.

Noah grabs my wrist and turns me to face him, which only prompts Hardin to shove Noah back by his shoulders.

“Do not touch her,” he growls.

This is not happening. I watch as the daytime soap opera that has become my life unfolds in front of me.

“You don’t tell me what to do with my girlfriend, you prick,” Noah says angrily, and shoves Hardin.

Hardin advances toward Noah once more, but I grab his shirt and pull him back. Maybe I should let them fight each other. Hardin deserves a good punch in the jaw.

“Stop it! Hardin, just go!” I wipe my tears.

Hardin glares at Noah again and moves to stand in front of me. I reach over and gently place my palm against Hardin’s back, hoping it may help calm him.

“No, I’m not leaving this time, Tessa. I have already done that too many times.” He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“Tessa, make him leave!” Noah begs, but I ignore him. I have to know what Hardin will say.

“I didn’t mean what I said in the car, and I don’t know why I took Molly’s phone call. It’s a habit, I guess—please just give me another chance. I know you have already given me too many chances, but I just need one more. Please, Tess.” He lets out a big breath. He sounds exhausted.

“Why should I, Hardin? I have continued to give you chances to be my friend over and over,” I tell him. “I don’t think I have it in me to try again.” I am faintly aware of Noah gaping at us, but at the moment I don’t care. I know this is wrong—I’m wrong—but I’ve never wanted anything so much in my life.

“I don’t just want to be friends . . . I want more.” His words knock the wind right out of me.

“No, you don’t.” Hardin doesn’t date, my subconscious warns.

“Yes, I do. I do.”

“You said you don’t date and that I wasn’t your type,” I remind him. My mind still can’t wrap itself around the fact that I am having this conversation with Hardin, in front of Noah, at that.

“You aren’t my type, just the way that I am not yours. But that’s why we are good for each other—we are so different, yet we’re the same. You told me once that I bring out the worst in you. Well, you bring out the best in me. I know you feel it, too, Tessa. And yes, I didn’t date, until you. You make me want to date, you make me want to be better. I want you to think I am worthy of you; I want you to want me the way I do you. I want to fight with you, even scream at each other until one of us admits we are wrong. I want to make you laugh, and listen to you ramble about classic novels. I just . . . I need you. I know I am cruel at times . . . well, all the time, but that’s only because I don’t know how else to be.” His voice becomes a half whisper, his eyes wild. “This has been me for so long, I have never wanted to be any other way. Until now, until you.”

I am dumbfounded. He’s said everything I wanted him to say but never imagined that he actually would. This is not the Hardin I know, but the way his words came out in a rushed string, and the heavy breathing that accompanied them, somehow make it all the more true and natural.