Page 22 of Hard to Love

“How are you so sure?” he asks as he regards me closely.

“I’m not, but my heart keeps telling me to try. So if you could stop running, I’d appreciate it.” I kick his foot with my own. “All you need to do is be here and be honest. Stop telling me what I need and don’t need. I’m damn well prepared to handle that myself. I want you. We’ll figure out the rest.” I smile at him, hoping he’ll reciprocate, and he smirks when I wrinkle my nose at him. Gotcha.

“And your brother? Your family, what are we going to tell them?” He’s crossing his arms like his defense is solid. So I roll my eyes and lean in.

“My family loves you, as does One. They’ll be fine. One is like any other big brother, but he loves you too.” Close enough to kiss him, I wait. I want to know he wants it.

“He loves you more.” Narrowing my eyes, I agree but only for a brief second.

“True. But if I’m happy, he’ll be happy. So make me happy, damn it,” I giggle my response to him.

Hardy snakes his arm around my waist, dragging me closer. I’m lost. His touch is all I want; his love is all I need. Laying my hands on his biceps to keep from climbing him, I wait.

“We’re gonna get caught, Thayer, then what.” He’s digging his fingers in the small of my back with every word.

“We can be free,” I answer with a sly grin.

Our mouths collide, melding together in a frenzy of desire as we show the other our true feelings. My reason to trust. Our reason to love. Kissing him surely is a sin. Thank God I can ask for forgiveness because I’m not asking for permission.

Breaking our contact, we breathe heavily. Moving his lips up to my forehead, he kisses it sweetly. I’m sure he’s checking to see if anyone is watching. I hope One finds out sooner rather than later, but I’m locking him down until then.

“I need to go. Come over tonight; I need to see you.” Pulling away, I make room for him to stand. We exchange places, and he helps me get in my truck, closing the door behind me.

“Alright. But to talk. We need to talk.” Serious Hardy has returned, yay.

“Of course, I agree. Bring clothes,” I answer with a cocked eyebrow and a huge grin.

Backing out of the drive, I take one last look at him, watching me, praying he’ll do as he’s promised. My stomach flips as the butterflies whirl around. To be honest with me, the feeling is about more than him coming over. It’s about trust.

I’ve never dealt with trust issues, didn’t have to. Hardy’s the only guy I’ve been around to do this shit. I haven’t dated much, and if ever I felt there was a problem, I moved on. There was never a time I felt like I wanted to work on anything with someone.

Hardy’s feelings of inferiority come from his upbringing; I suppose. It couldn’t have been a good life, at least not for a kid. When we met, he told me of the years he spent on the streets. Most of the time, he slept outdoors. Eating every few days, showering, or clean clothes came every week or so, sometimes longer.

I don’t think I’ve been dirty a day in my life; I couldn’t imagine being hungry as well. How awful for anyone to have to deal with that, let alone a child. I know most don’t consider runaways homeless, but there are times people have to leave.

Nevertheless, growing up on the streets is no place for a child, no matter the age. No human being should have to live like an animal. My heart breaks thinking of Hardy without food. Dirty, sleeping in an alley or park. How can people be so cruel to see homeless children in need and not help? It baffles me.

I’ve never thought about it before, but Hardy must have his own trust issues too. People have always let him down or tossed him to the side as if he didn’t matter. As if his life were expendable. Surely he knows I wouldn’t allow anyone to treat him that way. Hell would freeze over before it’d happen.

Of course, there’s One. He’s so freaked out that One will have a meltdown. If I know anything about my brother, it’s that he’s a good person. Even if we didn’t work out, One wouldn’t take it out on him. He’s not like that in the least. Hardy and I are adults; One will understand that at some point.

Watching nightfall on my back deck, doubt creeps in. Hardy hasn’t shown yet. I’m not sure why I keep giving him chances; any other guy would’ve been cut off by now. We don’t have a history together to explain this need I’ve developed for him. It runs deep, and for whatever reason, he’s a part of me.

My phone buzzes with a text. I rush to look at it, rolling my eyes at my lack of control. I smile wide when my eyes land on his name.

Hardy: Hey.

Hardy: Thayer. Talk to me.

Hardy: I’m outside.

I make him sweat it a few before answering him.

Me: Who is this?

Hardy: WTF? Who’s it supposed to be?

Me: I have a few friends, so I’m not sure.