“I know . . . I know. Fuck, don’t you think I know that?”
He sighs. “Well, seeing as you showed up here to ask for help, I’d say you get how messed up this whole situation is.”
“So what do you think I should do? Not as her friend, but as my . . . you know, my father’s stepson?”
“You mean stepbrother? Your stepbrother.” He smiles. I roll my eyes and he laughs. “Well, has she talked to you at all?” he asks.
“Yeah . . . I actually went to Seattle last night, and she let me stay with her,” I tell him.
“She what?” He is clearly surprised.
“Yeah, she was drunk. I mean really drunk, and she practically made me fuck her.” I notice his sour expression at my choice of words. “Sorry . . . she made me sleep with her. Well not made me, because I wanted to, I mean how could I say no . . . she’s just . . .” Why am I even telling him this?
He waves his hands in the air. “Okay! Okay! I get it, jeez.”
“So anyway, then this morning I said some shit that I shouldn’t have said because she told me she kissed someone else.”
“Tessa kissed someone?” he asks, disbelief clear in his voice.
“Yeah . . . some guy at a fucking nightclub.” I groan. I don’t want to think about that again.
“Wow. She really is pissed at you,” he says.
“I. Know.”
“What did you say to her this morning?”
“I told her that I fucked Molly yesterday,” I admit.
“Did you? You know . . . have sex with Molly?”
“No, God no.” I shake my head.
What the hell is going on here that I am having some twisted heart-to-heart with Landon, of all people?
“Then why did you say that you did?”
“Because she angered me.” I shrug. “She kissed someone else.”
“Okay . . . so you said that you slept with Molly, who you know Tess despises, just to hurt her?”
“Yeah . . .”
“Good idea.” He rolls his eyes.
I wave his snarky movement away with a strong hand. “Do you think she loves me?” I ask, because I have to know.
Landon snaps his head up, suddenly serious. “I don’t know . . .” He’s a terrible liar.
“Tell me. You know her better than anyone, except me.”
“She loves you. But because of how you betrayed her, she’s convinced that you never loved her,” Landon explains.
It breaks my heart all over again. And I can’t believe I’m asking for his help, but I need it. “What can I do? Will you help me?”
“I don’t know . . .” He looks up at me with uncertainty, but he must see my desperation. “I guess I can try to talk to her. Her birthday is tomorrow—you know that, right?”
“Yeah, of course I know that. Do you have plans with her?” I ask him. He better not.
“No, she said she’s going to stay at her mother’s house.”
“Her mother’s house? Why? When did you talk to her?”
“She texted me about two hours ago, and what else is she supposed to do? Stay at a motel by herself on her birthday?”
I choose to ignore his last question. If I’d just kept my cool this morning, she might have possibly let me stay another night with her. Instead, she’s still in Seattle with fucking Trevor.
I hear footsteps coming down the stairs, and my father’s body appears in the doorway a moment later. “I thought I heard your voice . . .”
“Yeah . . . I came to talk to Landon,” I lie. Well, it’s half the truth; I was going to talk to whoever I saw first.
I’m pathetic.
He looks surprised. “You did?”
“Yeah. Um, also, Mum is coming Tuesday morning,” I tell him. “For Christmas.”
“That’s great to hear. I know she misses you,” he tells me.
My first instinct is to think of a comeback, some remark about how shitty a father he is, but I simply don’t feel like it.
“Well, I’ll leave you two boys to talk,” he says and walks back to the stairs. “Oh, and Hardin?” my father says when he’s halfway up.
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
“Okay,” I state. I don’t know what else to say. My dad gives me a tight smile and continues up the stairs.
This whole day is a fucking mess. My head hurts. “Well . . . I guess I’m going to go . . .” I say to Landon, and he nods.
“I’ll do what I can,” he promises as I walk to the door.
“Thanks.” And when we both stand awkwardly in the doorway, I mumble, “You know I’m not going to like hug you or some shit, right?”
As I walk out the door, I hear him laugh and shut the door.
Chapter twenty-one
TESSA
Big plans for Christmas?” Trevor asks.
I raise one finger to tell him to wait a moment while I savor this bite of ravioli. The food here is excellent, and I’m no foodie, but I imagine this has to be a five-star restaurant.
“Not really. Just going to my mother’s house for the week. You?”
“I’m doing some volunteer work at this shelter, actually. I don’t really like to go back to Ohio. I have a few cousins and aunts, but since my mother passed, there isn’t much there for me,” he explains.
“Oh, Trevor, I’m sorry about your mother. But that’s very kind of you, to volunteer.” I smile sympathetically and take the last piece of ravioli into my mouth. It tastes as good as the first bite, but this revelation about Trevor makes me enjoy the food a little less while making me appreciate the dinner even more. Is that strange?