“I’m not sure. I’m going to see what my friends are up to. Maybe we could meet up again later tonight? Or before I leave on Saturday?”

“That could be cool. I’ll let you know,” I say.

“When will Hardin be here?” The venomous undertone to his question doesn’t go unnoticed.

I glance at my phone again, this time out of habit. “I’m not sure, maybe tonight.”

“Are you guys together right now? I know we said we wouldn’t talk about it anymore, but I’m confused.”

“So am I,” I admit. “We’ve been putting some space between us lately.”

“Is that working?”

“Yes.” Until the last few days when Hardin started to pull away from me.

“That’s good, then.”

I have to know what thought is running through his mind. I can see it churning behind his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing. You don’t want to hear it.”

“Yes, I do.” I know I’ll regret it, but that doesn’t stop my curiosity.

“I just don’t see any space. You’re in Seattle, staying with friends of his family, one of whom is also your boss. Even from miles away, he’s controlling you, trying to end the few friendships that you have. And when he’s not doing that, he’s coming to Seattle to visit. That doesn’t seem like much space to me.”

I haven’t thought about my living arrangement from that perspective until now. Is that another reason why Hardin sabotaged my getting an apartment? So that if I still decided to go to Seattle, I could be under the watchful eyes of his family’s friends?

I shake my head to escape the thought. “It’s working for us. I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but it’s working for us. I know—”

“He tried to pay me off to stay away from you,” Zed interjects.

“What?”

“Yeah, he was threatening me, and he told me to make him an offer. He told me to find another ‘whore on campus’ to toy with.”

Whore?

Zed shrugs nonchalantly. “He said that no one else will ever have you, and he was awfully proud of himself that you stuck around even after he told you about sleeping with Molly after the two of you started hanging out.”

The mention of Hardin and Molly stings—Zed knew it would. And that’s exactly why he said it.

“We’ve already dealt with that. I don’t want to talk about Hardin and Molly,” I say through gritted teeth.

“I just want you to know what you’re dealing with. He’s not the same person when you’re not around.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” I retort, fighting back. “You don’t know him.” I’m relieved when we pull onto the access road and into the outskirts of the city, signaling that we’re less than five minutes away from Christian’s place. The sooner this car ride is over, the better.

“You don’t either, not really,” he says. “You spend all of your time fighting with him.”

“What’s your goal here, Zed?” I ask. I hate the direction our conversation has taken, but I don’t know how to bring it back to neutral territory.

“Nothing. I just thought that after all this time and all the shit he puts you through, you’d see the truth.”

A thought strikes me. “Did you tell him you were coming here?”

“No.”

“You’re not fighting fair here,” I say, calling him out.

“Neither is he.” He sighs, desperately trying to keep his voice down. “Look, I know you’ll defend him until you’re blue in the face, but you can’t blame me for wanting to have what he has. I want to be the one you’re defending, I want to be the one that you trust, even though you shouldn’t. I’m always there for you when he isn’t.” He rubs his hand over his facial hair and takes another breath. “I’m not fighting fair, but neither is he. He hasn’t from the beginning. Sometimes I swear the only reason he’s so attached to you is because he knows that I have feelings for you, too.”

This is exactly why Zed and I will never be able to have a friendship. Regardless of his sweetness and understanding, it will never work. He hasn’t given up, and I suppose there’s honor in that. However, I can’t give him what he wants from me, and I don’t want to feel like I have to explain my relationship with Hardin every time I see him. He’s been there for me, it’s true, but only because I allowed him to be.

I say, “I don’t know if I have enough left of me to give to you, even as a friend.”

Zed looks over at me with an even expression. “That’s because he’s drained you.”

I stay silent and stare out the window at the pine trees lining the road. I don’t like the tension I’m feeling right now, and I’m fighting back some tears when I hear Zed mutter, “I didn’t want tonight to end up this way. Now you’ll probably never want to see me again.”

I point out the window. “It’s this driveway.”

An awkward and tense silence fills the cab of the truck until the massive house comes into view. When I look over at him, Zed is staring wide-eyed at Christian’s place.

“This is even bigger than the other house, the one I picked you up from before,” he points out, trying to ease the tension.

In an effort to do the same, I begin to tell him about the gym, the spacious kitchen, the way Christian can control what’s going on in parts of the house with his iPhone.

And then my heart leaps into my throat.

Hardin’s car is parked just behind Kimberly’s sleek Audi. Zed spots it at the same time that I do, but he doesn’t appear to be affected by it. I can feel the color draining from my face as I say, “I better get inside.”

As we park, Zed says, “Again, I’m sorry, Tessa. Please don’t go inside upset with me. You have enough going on, I shouldn’t have made you feel any worse.”

He offers to come inside to be sure everything is okay, but I brush it off. I know Hardin will be pissed—beyond pissed—but I’m the one who created this mess, so I need to be held responsible for cleaning it up.

“It’s okay,” I reassure him with a fake smile and climb out of his truck with a promise to text him when I can.

I’m aware of my slow strides as I walk to the door, but I don’t make an effort to move faster. I’m trying to go over what I should say, whether or not I should be angry with Hardin or apologize for seeing Zed again, when the door opens.

Hardin steps out wearing his dark blue jeans and a plain black T-shirt. Despite the fact that it has only been two days since I last saw him, my pulse quickens and I ache to be closer to him. I’ve missed him so much in the few days that we’ve been apart.

His face is set in stone, and his icy gaze follows Zed’s old truck as it disappears from view. “Hardin, I—”

“Get inside,” he scolds me.

“Don’t tell—” I begin.

“It’s cold; come inside.” Hardin’s eyes are blazing, and the heat in them keeps me from arguing. He surprises me by gently resting his hand on the small of my back as he leads me inside the house, past where Kimberly and Smith are playing some card game in the living room, and into my bedroom without a word.

Calmly, he closes the door behind him and turns the lock. Then he looks down at me, and my heart nearly bursts when he asks, “Why?”

“Hardin, nothing happened, I swear. He said there was a change of plans, and I was so relieved, because I thought he wasn’t coming, but instead he said that he’d arrived a day early and wanted to grab dinner.” I shrug, partly to calm myself down. “I didn’t know how to say no.”

“You never do,” he spits, holding my gaze.

“I know you went to his apartment yesterday. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you didn’t need to know.” His breathing is harsh, barely controlled.

“You don’t get to decide what I need to know,” I challenge him. “You can’t keep things from me. I know about your mother’s wedding, too!” I blurt.

“I knew how you would react.” He throws his hands up, trying to defend himself.

I roll my eyes, stomping toward him. “Bullshit.”

He doesn’t even flinch. The veins in his arms are visible under the rare spots of white skin, soft blue laced with the black ink. His fists are tightly balled. “One thing at a time.”