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“It doesn’t matter why it happened.” I shake my head at him. I don’t know why he always jumps to these conclusions. Why is it so hard for him to accept that he is loved?
“You feel sorry for poor Hardin who has nightmares and can’t sleep in a fucking bed alone!” His voice is too loud, and we have company.
“Stop yelling! Your mom is in the other room!” I yell back.
“Is that what you two did all day . . . talk about me? I don’t need your fucking pity, Tess.”
“Oh my God! You are so frustrating! We did not talk about you, not in that way. And for the record, I do not feel sorry for you, I wanted you in that bed with me regardless of your dreams.” I cross my arms.
“Sure,” he barks.
“This isn’t about how I feel; it’s about how you feel about yourself. You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself, if anything,” I say equally harshly.
“I don’t.”
“Seems like it. You just started a fight with me for no reason. We should be moving forward not backward.”
“Moving forward?” His eyes meet mine.
“Yeah . . . I mean may-maybe,” I stutter.
“Maybe?” He smiles.
And he’s so happy all of a sudden—he’s grinning like a small child on Christmas. He was just fighting with me, his cheeks flushed in anger. And strangely, I feel most of my anger evaporating as well. The control that he holds over my emotions terrifies me. “You are insane, literally,” I tell him.
He gives me a killer smirk. “Your hair looks nice.”
“You need to be medicated,” I tease, and he laughs.
“I wouldn’t argue there,” he responds.
And I can’t help but laugh with him . . . Maybe I’m just as crazy as he is.
Chapter thirty-one
TESSA
Our moment together is interrupted when my phone vibrates and dances across the dresser. Hardin grabs it for me, looks at the screen, and says, “Landon.”
Taking the phone from him, I answer, “Hello?”
“Hey, Tessa,” Landon says. “So, my mum wanted me to call and see if you were coming over for Christmas?”
His mom is so nice. And I bet she makes a great Christmas spread. “Oh . . . yeah, I’d love to. What time should I be there?” I reply.
“Noon.” He laughs. “She’s already started cooking, so if I were you, I wouldn’t eat anything until then.”
“I’ll start fasting now,” I joke. “Anything I should bring? I know Karen’s a much better cook than me, but I could make something—dessert, maybe?”
“Yeah, you can bring a dessert . . . and also . . . I know this is awkward, and if you aren’t comfortable with it, then that’s okay.” His voice lowers. “But they want to invite Hardin and his mum. But if you and Hardin aren’t getting along—”
“We are. Sort of,” I interrupt. Hardin raises his brow at my reply, and I give him a nervous smile.
Landon lets out a little breath. “Super. If you could just pass the invite along, they would really appreciate it.”
“I will,” I assure him, and then something occurs to me. “What should I get them, giftwise?”
“No, no—nothing! You don’t have to bring gifts.”
I keep my eyes on the wall and try not to focus on Hardin’s steady gaze on me. “Okay, sure. But I’m bringing gifts, so what should it be?”
Landon sighs good-naturedly. “Stubborn as always. Well, my mum likes her kitchen, and Ken would go for a paperweight . . . or something.”
“A paperweight?” I snort. “That’s a dreadful gift.”
He laughs. “Well, don’t get him a tie, because I did.” Then he groans. “Well, let me know if you need anything between now and then. I have to go help clean the house,” he says and hangs up.
When I put my phone down, Hardin immediately asks, “You are going there for Christmas?”
“Yeah . . . I don’t want to go to my mother’s,” I say and sit on the bed.
“I don’t blame you.” He rubs his chin with his index finger. “You could stay here?”
I pick at my fingernails on my lap. “You could . . . come with me.”
“And leave my mum here alone?” he scoffs.
“No! Of course not, Karen and your dad want her to come . . . Both of you.”
Hardin looks at me like I’m crazy. “Yeah, right. And why would my mum want to go there with my father and his new wife?”
“I . . . I don’t know, but it could be nice to have everyone together.”
Really, though, I’m not sure how exactly that would go, largely because I don’t know what type of relationship Trish and Ken have now, if they have one at all. It’s also not my place to try to bring everyone together—I’m not part of their family. Heck, I’m not even Hardin’s girlfriend.
“I don’t think so.” He frowns.
Despite everything going on between Hardin and me, it would have been nice to spend Christmas with him, but I understand. It would have been hard enough to convince Hardin to go to his father’s house for the holiday anyway, let alone with his mother.
Because part of my brain likes a problem to solve, I start thinking that I need to get gifts for Landon and his parents, maybe something for Trish as well. But what? I should go now, really—it’s already five, which only leaves a bit tonight and then tomorrow, Christmas Eve. I have no idea whether or not I should get something for Hardin; actually, I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t. It would be awkward to give him a present when we’re in this strange in-between place.
