He smiles and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me to his chest. He smells so good; even sweaty Hardin is my favorite scent.

“Does it hurt?” He runs his fingers through my hair and twirls a piece over his index finger.

“Sort of.” I laugh. “I’m afraid to stand up.”

He squeezes me tighter and kisses my shoulder. “I’ve never been with a virgin before,” he says quietly.

I look up at him and his eyes are soft, not mocking in the least. “Oh.” My mind produces a hundred questions about his first time. The when, where, who, and why. But I push those thoughts away—he didn’t love her. He has never loved anyone but me. I don’t care about the women in his past anymore. They are just that: his past. I only care about this beautiful, flawed man who just made love for the first time in his life.

Chapter seventy-nine

An hour later, Hardin asks, “Are you ready to get up?”

“I know I should, I just don’t want to,” I tell him and rub my cheek against his chest.

“I don’t want to rush you, but I really have to piss,” he tells me and I laugh, climbing off him and the bed.

“Ow . . .” I say before I can stop myself.

“You okay?” he asks for the thousandth time. His hand reaches out to help steady me.

“Yeah, just sore.” I cringe when I look at my sheets.

He looks over at them. “Yeah, I’ll toss them.” He pulls the sheets off the small bed.

“Not in here. Steph will see them.”

“Okay? So where?” He bounces up and down on his heels. He must have been holding his bladder for a while.

“I don’t know . . . can you put them in a Dumpster or something when you leave?”

“Who said I was leaving? So, what—you sleep with me and then kick me out?” His eyes dance with amusement. He grabs his jeans and boxers off the floor and puts them on. I grab his shirt and hold it out to him.

I smack him on the butt. “Just go pee, and take the sheets out on your way, just in case.” I don’t know why I care so much, but the last thing I need is Steph drilling me for information about losing my virginity.

“Sure. I won’t look like a creep or anything, carrying bloody sheets to my car at night.”

I scowl at him and he balls the sheets up and walks to the door. “I love you,” he says before walking out.

Now that he has left the room I have a little time to collect myself. I wonder if I look as good as I feel, which is warm and oddly at peace. The memory of Hardin hovering over me while he entered me makes my stomach clench. Now I know why people make such a big deal about sex. I really have been missing out, but I know that if my first time wouldn’t have been with Hardin, it wouldn’t have been so amazing. When I look in the mirror, my mouth falls open at my reflection. My cheeks are glowing, my lips are swollen. I squish my cheeks and move my hands around; somehow I look different. It’s the slightest of changes, and I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I like it. I take a second to admire the small red marks dotted across my breasts. I don’t even remember him making them. My mind takes me back to him making love to me, his mouth hot and wet against my flesh. I am snapped from my thoughts by the door opening, causing me to jump slightly.

“Admiring yourself?” Hardin smirks and locks the door.

“No . . . I . . .” I don’t know what to say, since I’m just standing in front of the mirror completely naked, fantasizing about his lips on my skin.

“It’s cool, babe, if I had your body I would stare at myself in the mirror, too,” he says and I flush.

“I think I’m going to take a shower,” I tell him while trying my best to cover myself with my hands. I don’t want to wash his scent off my body, but I need to wash everything else off.

“I’ll take one, too,” he says. I raise an eyebrow at him and he holds up his hands mockingly. “Not together, I know. However . . . if we lived together we could.”

Something has changed in him, too, I can see it. It’s the way his smile is a little deeper and his eyes brighter. I don’t reckon that anyone else would be able to spot it, but I know him better than anyone, despite the many secrets of his that I plan to uncover.

“What?” He cocks his head to the side.

“Nothing, I just love you,” I tell him and his cheeks redden slightly and his face splits into a grin, mirroring mine. We both seem to be giddy and high on each other. I love this. When I move to grab my robe, he steps in front of me.

“Have you at least thought about living with me?” he asks.

“You just asked me yesterday. I can only make one life-altering decision at a time.” I laugh.

He rubs his temples. “I just want to sign the paperwork soon. I have got to get out of that damned frat house.”

“You could just get it on your own?” I suggest again.

“I want it to be ours.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to spend as much time with you as I can. Why are you so hesitant? Is it the money? I would pay everything, of course.”

“No you wouldn’t,” I scoff. “If I was to agree to this, I would contribute—I’m not looking for a free ride.” I can’t believe we are actually discussing this.

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know . . . we haven’t known each other that long. I had always thought I wouldn’t live with anyone else until I was married . . .” I explain. That’s not the only reason; my mother is a huge reason, along with the fear of having to rely on someone else. Even Hardin. That’s what my mother did. She relied on my father’s income until he left, and after that she leaned on the slim possibility of his return. She always expected him to come back for us, but he never did.