But Hardin isn’t paying attention to me; his eyes are only for her.
“I need some air,” I tell Landon and stand. My chair screeches against the wooden floor, and Hardin looks up from his conversation momentarily, but then he catches himself and pretends to have only been looking for his water before he returns to talking to this new girl of his.
Chapter thirty-nine
TESSA
My heels clacking loudly on the hardwood, I concentrate on making it to the back door of the restaurant through my alcohol haze. If we were closer to home, I’d leave right now, pack my bags for Seattle, and stay in a hotel until I found an apartment.
I am so sick of Hardin doing this kind of shit to me—it’s painful and embarrassing, and it’s breaking me down. He’s breaking me down, and he knows it. That’s exactly why he’s doing it. He’s said as much before: he does these things because he knows they’ll get to me.
When I push through the door—briefly hoping it won’t set off an alarm or something—the chill night air envelops me. It’s calming, blanketing me in something other than the stale air and awkward tension of dull dinner companions.
I rest my elbows on a rock ledge and look out into the woods. It’s dark, nearly pitch-black out there. The restaurant is nestled right in the middle of a wooded area, creating a secluded atmosphere. It works, and would be wonderful, but it’s not ideal for me right now, when I already feel trapped.
“Are you all right?” a voice sounds from behind me.
When I turn, Robert is standing in the doorway, a stack of plates in one hand.
“Um, yeah, I just needed to breathe,” I say.
“Oh, it’s a little cold out here.” He smiles. His smile is polite and actually very endearing.
I give a smile back. “Yeah, a little.”
Both of us stand in silence. It’s slightly awkward, but I don’t mind. Nothing is as awkward as sitting at that table.
A few seconds later he speaks up. “I haven’t seen you around here before.” He gently places the plates on an empty table and walks closer to me. He leans his elbows on the ledge only a few feet away.
“I’m visiting. I’ve never been here before.”
“You should visit in the summer. February is the worst time to come. Well, except for November and December . . . maybe even January.” His cheeks flush as he stammers, “Y-you get what I mean.” Then he lets out a little chucklelike sound.
Trying not to giggle at him and his red cheeks, I say, “I bet it’s beautiful in the summer.”
“Yeah, you are.” His eyes widen. “I mean it is. It is beautiful,” he corrects himself, and runs his hand over his face.
I force my lips together in an attempt not to laugh at him, but I can’t help it. A small giggle escapes, causing him to look even more horrified than before.
“Do you live here?” I ask, trying to sidestep his embarrassment. His company is refreshing; it’s nice to be around someone who’s not so intimidating. Hardin owns every room he’s in, and his presence is overwhelming half the time.
That calms him a tiny bit. “Yeah, born and raised. And you?”
“I go to WCU. I’ll be starting at the Seattle campus next week.” I feel like I’ve been waiting so long to say those words.
“Wow, Seattle. Impressive!”
He smiles and I laugh again. “Sorry, wine makes me laugh a lot,” I blurt, and he looks over at me with a grin.
“Well, I’m glad it’s not me that you’re laughing at.” His eyes roam my face, and I turn away. He looks back to the restaurant. “You should get back inside before your boyfriend comes looking for you.”
I turn around to look in through the windows into the elegant space. Hardin’s head is still turned toward Lillian.
“Trust me, no one is coming to look for me,” I say with a sigh, and my bottom lip quivers as my heart betrays me, sinking lower and lower.
“He looks pretty lost without you,” Robert tries to reassure me.
I spy Landon looking around the room, with nobody to talk to. “Oh! That’s not my boyfriend. Mine is the one across the table—the one with the tattoos.” I watch as Robert looks at Hardin and Lillian and confusion sweeps over his soft features. Swirls of black ink peek out from the top of Hardin’s collared dress shirt. I love the way white looks on him; I love being able to see the hint of ink under the light-colored fabric.
“Um, does he know he’s your boyfriend?” Robert asks, raising his eyebrow.
I tear my eyes away from Hardin as he smirks, a deep smirk, the kind of smirk that shows his dimples, the kind of smirk that is usually given only to me. “I’m beginning to wonder the same thing.”
I bring my hands to my face and shake my head. “It’s complicated,” I groan.
Hold yourself together, don’t fall into his game. Not this time.
Robert shrugs. “Well, who better to talk about your problems with than a stranger?”
We both gaze at the table that I’m missing from. No one except Landon seems to even notice.
“Don’t you have to work?” I ask, hoping that he doesn’t. Robert is young, older than me, but he can’t be any older than twenty-three at the most.
He seems fully confident as he smiles and says, “Yeah, but I have it in good with the owner,” seeming to be telling himself a joke that I’m not included in.
“Oh.”
“So, if that’s your boyfriend, who’s the girl with him?”
“Her name is Lillian.” I can hear the venom in my own voice. “I don’t know her, neither does he . . . well, he didn’t, but apparently now he does.”