I place the book on the bedside table before I switch off the light and lay my head flat on the mattress. I want to take my pillow back, but she’s holding it too tight and I don’t want to be a dick.
“Would you please just stop being so stubborn and come to England with me? I can’t be without you,” I whisper to her in her sleep, running my thumb along the warm skin of her cheek.
I’m looking forward to getting some sleep again, real sleep with her next to me.
Chapter one hundred and twenty-two
TESSA
When I wake up, Hardin is sprawled across the bed, one arm covering his face and the other hanging over the edge of the mattress. His T-shirt is soaked in sweat, and I feel disgusting. With a quick kiss to his cheek, I hurry to the bathroom.
When I return from my shower, Hardin’s awake, like he’s been waiting for me. He leans up on his elbow. “I’m afraid to be expelled,” he says. His voice startles me, but his confession startles me even more.
I sit next to him on the bed, and he doesn’t even try to tear the towel from around my body. “You are?”
“Yeah. I know it’s stupid . . .” he begins.
“No, it’s not stupid. Anyone would be afraid, I know I would be. It’s okay to be afraid.”
“What will I do if I can’t go to WCU anymore?”
“Go to another college.”
“I want to go back home,” he says, and my heart sinks.
“Please don’t,” I say quietly.
“I have to, Tess. I can’t afford university if my dad isn’t the chancellor.”
“We could find a way.”
“No, this isn’t your problem.”
“Yes, it is. If you go to England, we’ll never see each other.”
“You have to come, Tessa. I know you don’t want to, but you have to. I can’t be away from you again. Please just come.” His words are so full of emotion that I can’t seem to find mine.
“Hardin, it’s not that easy.”
“Yes, it is. It’s easy—you could get a job doing exactly what you’re doing now and possibly make even more money and go to an even better university.”
“Hardin . . .” I focus my eyes back on his bare skin.
He sighs. “You don’t have to decide right now.”
I almost tell him that I’ll pack my bags and go to England with him, but I can’t.
For now, I’ll stay the coward that I am and push the news of Seattle back another day while I roll onto my side and he gathers me in his arms.
For once, he’s gotten me to crawl back into bed with him in the morning. Comforting him is more of a priority than my routine.
“THE OWNER, DREW, seems like a dick, but he’s pretty cool,” Hardin informs me as we approach the small brick building.
A bell sounds above my head when Hardin opens the door for me and we walk inside. Steph and Tristan are already there. Steph is seated on a leather chair, and Tristan is looking through what appears to be . . . a book of tattoos?
“Took you long enough!” Steph kicks her leg out as Hardin and I walk by and he grabs her boot in his hand before it touches me.
“Already being annoying, I see . . .” He rolls his eyes and attempts to lead me over to Tristan, but I pull my hand from his and stand near Steph.
“She’s fine with me,” she tells him, and he scowls at her but doesn’t say anything in return.
Hardin stands next to Tristan about twenty feet away, grabs a black book like the one Tristan has in his hands, and flips through the pages.
“I haven’t seen you in here before.” The guy looks up at me while he wipes the surface of Steph’s bare stomach with a towel.
“I’ve never been here before,” I reply.
“Name’s Drew. I own the place.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Tessa.”
“Are you getting any work done today?” He smiles.
“No, she’s not.” Hardin answers for me, wrapping his arm around my waist.
“She’s with you, Scott?”
“Yes, she is.” Hardin pulls me closer. He’s obviously doing this for show. He said that Drew seems like an asshole, but I don’t get that vibe from him at all. He seems really nice.
“Cool. Cool. About time you got a girlfriend.” Drew laughs. Hardin relaxes a little but keeps his arm around me. “So why don’t you get something done, hombre?”
A buzzing noise fills the space, and I look down at Steph’s stomach to watch in amazement as the tattoo gun drags slowly across her skin. Drew wipes the excess ink off with a towel and continues.
“I might, actually,” Hardin tells him.
I look up at Hardin, and his eyes meet mine. “Really? What do you want to get?” I ask him.
“I don’t know yet, something on my back.” Hardin’s back is virtually the only part of his body that is completely ink-free.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” He rests his chin on top of my hair.
“Speaking of getting work done, where the fuck are your rings?” Drew asks, dipping the gun into a small plastic cup full of black ink.
“I’m over them.” Hardin shrugs.
“If he messes this up because you won’t stop talking to him, you’re paying for the whole thing.” Steph looks at Hardin, and I laugh.
“I’m not going to pay for that shit,” Hardin and Drew say in unison.
Tristan finally joins us and pulls a chair over to sit by Steph; he takes her hand in his. I look over at the small and freshly inked cluster of birds drawn into Steph’s skin. It’s sort of lovely, actually, the placement of them. Drew gives her a mirror so she can get a better look.