“No, we aren’t going,” he surprises me by saying.

I turn to him. “What? Why not? If it’s a dinner it won’t be so bad—no Truth or Dare or Suck and Go, you know?”

He chuckles and looks up at me with amusement clear on his face. “Suck and Blow, Tess.”

“You know what I mean! It’ll be the last time we—well, I see them, and they have sort of been my friends, in a really strange way.” I don’t want to think about the beginning of my “friendship” with the group.

“Let’s just talk about it later. This shit is giving me a headache,” he groans.

I sigh in defeat. I can tell by his tone that he’s not going to continue the discussion.

“Come here.” He sits back down on the mattress and opens his arms to me.

I close the planner and go to join him on the bed; as I stand between his legs, his hands move to my hips. He looks up at me with a crooked smile.

“Aren’t you supposed to be mad at me or something?”

“I’m getting overwhelmed, Hardin,” I admit.

“Overwhelmed by what?”

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I throw up my arms. “Everything. Seattle, transferring to another campus, Landon leaving, your expulsion—”

“I lied,” he says plainly and nuzzles his face into my stomach.

What now? “What?” I thread my fingers through his hair and lift his head to look up at me.

He shrugs. “I lied about the expulsion.”

I take a step away from him; he tries to pull me back, but I don’t allow it. “Why?”

“I don’t know, Tessa,” he says, and stands. “I was upset about you being outside with Zed and all this Seattle shit.”

My mouth drops. “So you told me you were expelled because you were pissed at me?”

“Yeah. Well, that and another reason.”

“What other reason?”

He sighs. “You’re going to be angry.” His eyes are still red, but he seems to be sobering up quickly.

I cross my arms over my chest. “Yeah, probably. But tell me.”

“I thought you’d feel bad for me and come to England.”

I don’t know what to think about his confession. I should be upset. I am upset. I’m pissed the hell off. The nerve of him, to try and guilt me into moving to England with him. He should have just been honest from the start . . . but still I can’t help but feel a little better about finding it out straight from his mouth instead of the usual way his lies are revealed.

He looks at me with questioning eyes. “Tessa . . . ?”

I look at him and almost smile. “Honestly, I’m just surprised you came clean before someone else told me.”

“Me, too.” He closes the distance between us, bringing his hand to my neck, the span of his fingers covering my jaw. “Please don’t be mad at me. I’m an asshole.”

I blow out a harsh breath, but love his touch. “That’s a terrible defense.”

“I’m not defending myself. I’m a dick. I know this, but I love you and I’m sick of all the shit. I knew you’d find out sooner or later anyway, especially with this dreadful trip with my father’s family.”

“So you told me because you knew I’d find out?”

“Yeah.”

I pull my head back a little and look at him. “You would have kept it from me and still tried to force me to go to England with you out of pity?”

“Basically . . .”

What the hell am I supposed to say to that? I want to tell him he’s insane, that he’s not my father and needs to stop trying to manipulate me, but instead I just stand there with my mouth open like a fool. “You can’t try to force me into things by lying and manipulating me.”

“I know it’s fucked up,” he says, with a look of worry in his green eyes. “I don’t know why I am the way I am. I just don’t want to lose you, and I’m desperate here.”

I can tell by his expression that he really doesn’t understand how he’s been acting. “No, you don’t know. Otherwise you wouldn’t have lied.”

Hardin puts his hands on my hips. “Tessa, I’m sorry, I really am. You have to admit that we’re both getting much better at this relationship shit.”

He’s right; in a messed-up way we really are much better at communicating than we used to be. Far from a normal-functioning relationship, but normal has never been our thing.

“So, the marriage thing—that isn’t going to make you come with me?”

My heart beats uncontrollably in my chest, and I’m sure he can hear it. But I say simply, “We’ll talk about it when you’re not drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

I smile and pat his cheek. “Too drunk for that type of conversation.”

He smiles and pulls me closer. “When will you be back from Sandpoint?”

“You’re not coming?”

“I don’t know.”

“You said you would. We’ve never traveled together before.”

“Seattle,” he says, and I laugh.

“Actually, you showed up there uninvited, and left the next morning.”

He runs a hand through my hair. “Technicalities.”

“I really want you to come. Landon is moving soon.” The thought of that alone pains me.

“So?” he asks, shaking his head.

“And your father would love it if you came, I’m sure.”

“Oh, him. He’s just upset with himself because they gave me a bullshit fine and put me on academic probation; the slightest fuckup and I’m done.”




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