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Barbie was perfect, so she would have the perfect life, with perfect parents.
But she was there after he decided not to be.
You’re too damn nice to everyone when they don’t deserve it.”
Relieved because I’m drunk, but annoyed because I miss her already. Each glass of scotch that slides down my throat makes me want her more, makes the hollowness of her absence grow. Fuck, what has she done to me?
I’ll marry you if you choose me.
His words always get to me, always. He’s so sincere all the time, and I admire that about him.
“Fine. Fuck, you’re lucky I love you.”
The wind blows my hair across my face, blocking my view for a moment, and Hardin’s hand reaches up to tuck it back behind my ear. It’s always the simple things he does, the small ways he finds to touch me without thought, that make my stomach flutter.
He’s so lovely, it hurts.
No tears come, only memories. Memories and regrets.
Why does everyone always ask me that as if I can’t be more than five feet away from her? The building ache in my chest reminds me of just that: I can’t.
“Are you okay?” I take a moment to think over his question: Am I okay? No. Will I be? Yes.
“You know, there’s a big difference between not being able to live without someone and loving them.”
Fuck, even after crying she’s so damned beautiful.
“I don’t know, Hardin. We both need to get ourselves to a better place.” “You’re my better place, Tess.”
“Sort of. He’s funny.” “Hey, I’m funny, too!” I tease, but he only smiles a shy smile. “Not really,” he answers bluntly.
I need to be reminded of what I loved so much about this city, because right now, in this strange bedroom, hours away from everything I’ve ever known, it just feels so… lonely.
Does Tessa miss me the way I miss her?
No one knows me the way she does, no one has ever even cared to get to know me the way Tessa does.
I always acted as if her need to know everything was obnoxious, but really it made me feel… special… or like someone cared about me enough to want to know the answers to these ridiculous questions.
There’s a bigger, stronger, other part of me, the half that always wins, telling me how fucked up I am. I’m so fucked up, and all I do is ruin every fucking thing in my life and everyone else’s, so I would be doing Tessa a favor by leaving her alone. That’s the only side I can believe, especially without her here to tell me that I’m wrong. Especially since it’s always proven to be true in the past.
What the fuck else could possibly happen this week? No, wait. I don’t want to know the answer to that.
Isn’t love just fucking awesome?
But I miss him—there, I said it. I miss him terribly, and I was hoping for a response from him, even a simple text. Something. But nothing came.
The last thing on my mind is being romantic with someone, especially anyone other than Hardin.
Deep down, I know that it won’t continue to be this easy, talking this way, teasing myself with small doses of Hardin when in reality I want him, all of him, all the time. I want him here with me, holding me, kissing me, making me laugh. This must be what denial feels like.
Did she stare at her phone with a stupid-ass grin on her face after we hung up earlier, like I did?
A merciless punishment disguised as a beautiful reward.
Denial, that’s exactly what this is.
I can change the outcome of all this. I can be who she needs me to be without dragging her down to my hell again.
I have no fucking clue, but the image sends me over the edge, and I spill into my boxers with a strangled groan of her name. Our matched breathing is the only sound on the line for seconds or minutes, I can’t keep track.
“I do miss you, so much,” she says. I know she loves me, but each time I’m given a sliver of reassurance, it’s like a weight’s been lifted from my chest. “I miss you, too.” More than anything.
I glanced down at her small fingers trailing over the large flower etched near my elbow. “I don’t know; it’s sort of beautiful the way you have a flower surrounded by all of this darkness.”
“You always see the light in me… How is that possible when there isn’t any?” “There’s plenty. And you’ll see it, too. Someday.”
Maybe if I keep doing what I’m doing now and stay away from shit that could get me in trouble, I can continue to do things that mean a lot to her. I can make her happy instead of miserable, and maybe, just maybe, I could see some of the light in myself that she claims to see.
But most of all, I feel as if I’m constantly waiting for something that never comes.
But wait—why did I just call it home? I only lived there six months. And then I realize: Hardin. It’s because of Hardin. Wherever he is will always feel like home to me.
Has there ever been a time in my life when I wasn’t a selfish prick?
Fuck, I want to kiss her. I’ve missed her so much, and she says she’s missed me, too… Why doesn’t she just… Her hands wrap around the top of my black T-shirt, and she presses her lips against mine. I feel as if someone has plugged me into an electrical outlet, every fiber of me igniting and buzzing. Her tongue enters my mouth, pressing and caressing, and I wrap my hands around her hips. I pull her across the room until my feet hit the footboard of the bed. I lie back, and she falls gently on top of me. Wrapping her body into my arms, I turn us over so her body is under mine. I can feel her
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Leave it to me to fuck this night up. I’m sure she’s not surprised, though. It’s what I do without fail, every time.
When my name escapes her lips, it comes out on a breath, soft, her tongue caressing the word. As if in saying that one word she’s summed up all of her feelings for me, all of the times I’ve touched her, all of the times she’s proved that she loves me—even if part of me still can’t believe it.
My breathing has yet to return to normal. I have all this adrenaline rushing through my body. I couldn’t help but beat the shit out of that damn bag, but my hands and feet are aching—I still haven’t released all of my anger.
“Have you seen Tessa around anywhere, because this hormone-addled, sex-crazed woman wiggling in my lap is certainly not her,” I tease, and she catches on, finally.
“Let’s not talk about it, then. I want you to try and forget it, like I have.” I caress his back with my fingers, gently begging him to forget the whole thing. It won’t do either of us any good to harp on it. It was terrible and disgusting, but I won’t let it rule me. “I love you—I love you so, so much.” His mouth catches mine, and I wrap my fingers around his arms, pulling him closer to me. Between breaths, I say, “So focus on me, Hardin. Only on m—” I’m interrupted by the pressure of his mouth on mine again, possessing me, proving his commitment to both me and himself. His tongue is hard,
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LATER, AS WE’RE LYING IN BED, Hardin whines, “I don’t want to go,” and in a very un-Hardin-like gesture, he leans his head down and buries it in my shoulder, wrapping his arms and legs around my body.
She’s right. She’s always fucking right.
I savor the words; fuck, I miss her so much.
“I miss you.” The sadness in her voice stops me in my tracks. “I miss you too, baby. I’m sorry—I’m going crazy without you, Tess.”
This is precisely why I don’t try to help people. I have no experience in it. I’m pretty damn excellent at fucking shit up, but I’m no savior.
but he’s almost become like a piece of furniture in this apartment. He’s like an old couch that smells like shit and always creaks when you sit down on it, and it’s uncomfortable as shit, but for some reason you can’t throw it away. That’s Richard.
