Chapter 149 (1/2)

By the time I get home it’s almost six o’clock and I have multiple texts from Hardin, which I have ignored. When I get to our door I take a deep breath to mentally prepare for what is to come. Either we will end up screaming at each other, which will lead to one of us leaving, or we will actually talk through it and work it out. Hardin is pacing back and forth across the cement floor when I enter. His eyes shoot up to my figure in the doorway, and he looks relieved.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” he says and steps toward me.

“Where else would I go?” I say in response and walk past him into the bedroom.

“I . . . well, I made dinner for you,” he says.

He is totally unrecognizable right now. His hair is down across his forehead instead of pushed up and back like it normally is. He is wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt and black sweats and he seems nervous, worried, and almost . . . afraid?

“Oh . . . why?” I can’t help but ask. I change into sweats of my own, and Hardin’s face falls farther when I don’t put on the shirt of his that he has clearly laid on the dresser for me.

“Because I am an asshole,” he answers.

“Yeah . . . you are,” I say and walk back into the kitchen. The meal looks much more appetizing than I thought it would, even though I’m not sure what it is; some sort of chicken pasta, I think.

“It’s chicken Florentine.” He answers my thoughts.

“Hmm.”

“You don’t have to . . .” His voice is small. This is such a different scene than usual, and for the first time since I met him I feel like I have the upper hand.

“No, it looks good. I’m just surprised,” I tell him and take a bite. It tastes even better than it looks.

“Your hair looks nice,” he says. My thoughts travel back to the last time I had a haircut and Hardin was the only one to notice.

“I need answers,” I remind him.

He lets out a hard breath. “I know, and I am going to give them to you.”

I take another bite to hide my satisfaction with myself for holding my ground with him.