Chapter 89 (1/2)

Finally Hardin’s car pulls into the lot, and I step outside into the chilling wind. It is warmer today than it has been, the bright sun adding a small amount of warmth, but not enough. “Sorry for being late, I fell asleep,” he tells me as I climb into the warm car.

“It’s okay,” I assure him and stare out the window.

I’m slightly nervous about New Year’s Eve tonight and don’t want to add fighting with Hardin to my list of stressors today. We haven’t decided what we are actually doing yet, which drives me insane—I want to know the details and have the entire night planned.

I’ve been debating whether or not to reply to the text messages that Steph sent me a couple days ago. Part of me really wants to see her, to show her and everyone that they did not break me—though they humiliated me, yes—and that I’m stronger than they think. That being said, the other half of me thinks it will be incredibly awkward to see Hardin’s friends. I know they’ll probably think I’m an idiot for being with him again.

I won’t know how to act around them, and honestly I’m afraid that everything will be different when Hardin and I are not in our own small bubble. What if he ignores me the entire time, or what if Molly’s there? My blood boils at the thought.

“Where do you want to go?” he asks.

I had earlier mentioned that I needed something to wear tonight, so I say, “The mall is fine. We need to decide where we’re going so I know what to get.”

“Do you really want to hang out with everyone, or just go out, the two of us? I’m still rooting for staying in.”

“I don’t want to stay in, we stay in all the time.” I smile. I love staying in with Hardin, but he used to be out all the time, and sometimes I worry if I keep him in the house too much, he’ll get bored with me.

When we arrive at the mall, Hardin drops me off at the entrance to Macy’s and I hurry inside. By the time he joins me, I already have three dresses draped over my arms.

“What is that?” Hardin scrunches his nose at the canary-yellow dress on top. “That color is hideous,” he says.

“You find every color hideous, apart from black, of course.”

He shrugs at my truthful statement and runs his finger along the fabric of the gold dress underneath. “I like this one,” he says.

“Really? That was the one I was unsure about. I don’t want to stand out, you know?”

He arches his brow. “And you wouldn’t be standing out in yellow?”

He has a point. I place the yellow dress back on the rack and hold up a white strapless, then ask, “What about this one?”

“You should try them on,” he suggests with a cheeky smile.

“Pervert,” I tease.

“Always.” He smirks and follows me to the dressing room.

“You are not coming in here,” I scold him and close the door to the stall, leaving just enough room to pop my head out.

He pouts before taking a seat on the black leather couch outside the dressing room. “I want to see each one,” he calls when I close the door the rest of the way.