There have been too many secrets between us, too many avoidable blowouts when said secrets were revealed in the worst way, and I don’t want this to be one of those situations. It’s time to be mature, get a backbone, and tell Hardin what I plan to do.
It’s my life, my choice. He doesn’t have to approve—no one does. But I owe it to him to at least tell him the truth before he finds out from someone else.
“We can go whenever you want,” I quietly respond, ignoring Kimberly’s smirk.
He smiles down at my wrinkled T-shirt and loose sweats. “You’re wearing that, right?”
I didn’t have time to pay attention to what I was covering myself with; I was too occupied with the idea of Kimberly’s knocking on my door and catching us with no clothes on.
“Hush.” I roll my eyes and walk away from him. I can hear him following me, but I close the bathroom door behind me, locking it. He tries the handle and I hear him laugh before a quiet thud sounds against the wood. The image of him hitting his head against the door makes me smile.
Without a word to him from the other side of the door, I turn the shower on and remove my clothes and step in before the water has a chance to heat.
Chapter fifty-five
HARDIN
Kimberly is standing in the kitchen with her hand on her hip. How charming. “Dinner, eh?”
“Eh?” I mock her, walking past her like it’s my house instead of hers. “Don’t look at me like that.”
Her heels click behind me. “I should have put money on how fast you would be here.” She pulls the refrigerator open. “I told Christian on the way home that your car would be in our driveway.”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” I glance down the hall, hoping that Tessa makes it a quick shower, and wishing I were in the shower with her. Hell, I would be happy if she just let me sit in the bathroom, on the floor even, and listen to her talk while she bathes. I miss showering with her, I miss the way she pinches her eyes closed, too tight, and keeps them screwed shut the entire time she washes her hair—you know, “just in case” shampoo gets into her eyes.
I teased her over it once, and she opened her eyes, only to get a big puff of soap in them. I didn’t hear the end of it until hours later when her eyes were finally rid of the red rings.
“What’s so funny?” Kimberly places a carton of eggs on the island in front of me.
I didn’t realize I was laughing; I was so consumed by the memory of Tessa’s glaring and scowling at me—puffy, red eyes and all.
“Nothing.” I wave Kimberly off.
The counter is being filled with every type of food imaginable, and Kimberly even slides a cup of coffee, black, in front of me.
“What’s with you? You being nice to me so I won’t keep reminding your fiancé what a prick he is?” I raise the suspicious coffee cup into the air.
She laughs. “No. I’m always nice to you. I just don’t take your shit like everyone else, but I’m always nice to you.”
I nod, not knowing what to say next in the conversation. Is that what’s happening here? I’m having a conversation with Tessa’s most obnoxious friend? The same woman who happens to be marrying my fuckup of a sperm donor?
She cracks an egg on the side of a glass bowl. “I’m not so bad once you get past that whole hating-the-world thing you have going on.”
I look up at her. She’s annoying but she’s loyal as hell, I’ll give her that. Loyalty is hard to come by, even more so lately, and oddly enough I find myself thinking about Landon and how he seems to be the only person besides Tessa who’s loyal to me. He’s been here for me in a way that I didn’t expect, and I definitely didn’t expect to somewhat like it—rely on it, even.
With all this shit going on in my life and the struggle to keep myself on the right path, the path lined with fucking rainbows and flowers and all the shit that leads to a life with Tessa, it’s nice to know Landon is there if I need him. He’s leaving soon and that fucking sucks, but I know that even from New York City he will be loyal. He may take Tessa’s side most of the time, but he’s always honest with me. He doesn’t keep shit from me the way everyone else does.
“Plus,” Kimberly starts, but bites down on her lip to stop herself from laughing, “we’re family!”
And just like that, she’s back on my damn nerves.
“Funny.” I roll my eyes. If I had been the one to say it, it would have been, but she just had to ruin the silence.
She turns away from me to pour the egg-batter shit into a pan on the stove. “I’m known for my humor.”
Actually, you’re known for your big-ass mouth, but if thinking you’re funny works, fine.
“All joking aside”—she looks at me over her shoulder—“I do hope you will consider talking to Christian before you leave. He’s been really upset and worried that your relationship with him is ruined permanently. I wouldn’t blame you if it was; I’m just letting you know.” Her eyes leave mine, and she continues cooking, allowing me time to gather a response.
Should I even give her one? “I’m not ready to talk . . . yet,” I eventually say. For a second, I’m not sure if she heard me, but then she nods her head and I can see the edges of a smile when she turns to grab another ingredient.
What feels like three hours later, Tessa finally emerges from the bathroom. Her hair is dry and pulled away from her face with a thin headband. It doesn’t take long to notice that she put makeup on. She could have done without the makeup, but I guess it’s a good sign that she’s trying to return to normalcy.