Chapter 158

“I came to talk to you.”

“About what?” he asks, and I sit in the large leather chair behind the hideously expensive oak desk.

“Tessa, what else?” I roll my eyes at him.

“She told me you asked her out already—looks like you really gave her some space.”

“What did she say?” I question.

“I’m not going to tell you what she says.” He slides a piece of paper into the fax machine.

“What are you doing, anyway?” I ask him.

“Faxing my transcripts to NYU. I’m going there next semester.”

Next semester? What the fuck? “Why so soon?”

“Because I don’t want to waste any more time here when I could be with Dakota.”

“Does Tessa know?” I know this will hurt her. He’s her only real friend. I find myself sort of reluctant for him to go . . . sort of.

“Yeah, of course she knows, she was the first person I told.”

“Anyway, I need some help with this date shit.”

“Date shit?” He smiles. “How nice.”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

“I guess.” He shrugs.

“Where is she, anyway?” I ask him. I had walked past the room she’s been staying in, but the door was closed and I didn’t want to knock. Well, I wanted to knock, but I’m trying my hardest to give her space. If her car hadn’t been in the driveway, I’d be freaking the fuck out, but I know she’s here. Well, I sure fucking hope so.

“I don’t know; she’s with that Zed guy, I think,” Landon says and my heart drops. I jump up to my feet in seconds.

“Joking! I’m joking. She’s in the greenhouse with my mum,” Landon says, looking at me with playful scorn.

I don’t care, though, I’m just relieved to know that my paranoid thoughts were getting the best of me. “That’s not funny. You’re a dick,” I spit, and he chuckles. “Now you’re definitely helping me,” I tell him.

AFTER LANDON GIVES ME some advice, he calls it a day and escorts me to the front door. On the way, I ask, “Has she been driving herself to Vance?”

“Yeah, she missed a few days when she was . . . well, you already know.”

“Hmm . . .” I lower my voice as we walk past the room that’s Tessa’s for now. I don’t want to think of how I hurt her, not right now. “Do you think she’s in there?” I ask quietly.

He shrugs. “I don’t know; probably.”

“I should just . . .” I turn the doorknob, and it opens with a small creak. Landon shoots me a glare, but I ignore him as I peer inside.

She’s lying on the bed with papers and textbooks scattered all around her. Her jeans are still on along with a sweatshirt; she must’ve been really exhausted to have fallen asleep while she was studying.

“Are you done being a creep now?” Landon hisses in my ear.

I flip the light switch off and step out of the doorway, pulling the door closed behind me. “I’m not being a creep. I love her, okay?”

“I know, but you clearly don’t understand the concept of giving her some space.”

“I can’t help it. I’m so used to being with her and I’ve been through hell the last nearly two weeks without her. It’s hard for me to stay away from her.”

We walk down the stairs in silence, and I hope I didn’t sound too desperate. Then again, it’s only Landon, so I don’t really give a fuck anyway.

I HATE GOING to the apartment now that Tessa isn’t there. For a second I consider calling Logan and going by the frat house, but deep down I know that’s a bad idea. I don’t want any problems to occur, and they always do. I just really don’t want to go back to that empty apartment.

I do anyway. I’m so damn tired. I haven’t slept properly in ages, it seems.

As I lie down in our bed I try to envision her arms around my waist and her head on my chest. It’s hard to imagine spending my life this way. If I never get to hold her again, if I never get to feel the warmth of her body next to mine . . . I have to do something. I have to do something different, something that will show her and show myself that I can do this.

I can change. I have to, and I fucking will.

Chapter one hundred and one

TESSA

By the time I take a shower and dry my hair, it’s already six and the sky is long since dark. I knock on Landon’s bedroom door, but there’s no answer. I don’t see his car in the driveway, but he’s been parking in the garage lately, so he may still be here.

I have no idea what to wear because I don’t know where we’re going. I can’t stop looking out the window, waiting anxiously for Hardin’s car to appear in the driveway. When the bright flash of headlights finally does appear, my stomach turns.

Most of my anxiety is dissolved when Hardin steps out of the car in the black button-up shirt he wore to the dinner party. Is he wearing dress pants? Oh my God, he is. And dress shoes, shiny black dress shoes. Wow. Hardin dressed up? I feel underdressed, but the way he’s looking at me dissolves my unease.

He really is going all out for this. He looks so handsome, and he even styled his hair. It’s pushed back, and I can tell he used something to keep it that way, because it doesn’t fall down onto his forehead as he walks, the way it usually does.

He flushes. “Erm . . . hi?”

“Hi.” I can’t stop staring at him. Wait . . . “Where are your piercings?” The metal rings are gone from his eyebrow and lip.