My head is swimming with all of this new information and I feel like I finally understand him. There are still many more things I would love to know about him, but he falls asleep while telling me about the playhouse made from cardboard boxes that he and his mother and her friend made when he was eight. As I watch him sleep, he appears so much younger now that I know about his childhood, which seems like it was mostly happy until his father’s alcoholism poisoned it, creating the angry Hardin of today. I lean over and give the proud rebel a kiss on his cheek before crawling into bed to sleep, too.

I don’t want to wake him, so I pull the comforter sideways to cover myself up. That night, my dreams are clouded by a curly-haired little boy falling off a bicycle.

“STOP!”

I jolt awake at the pained sound of Hardin’s voice. I look around for him, then peer over the bed to see his body jerking on the floor. I hurry out of the bed to get down to him and gently shake his shoulders to try to wake him. I remember how difficult it was the last time, so I lean down on him and wrap my small arms around his shoulders as he tries to thrash away from me. A whimper escapes his perfect lips and then his eyes shoot open.

“Tess,” he gasps and wraps his arms around me. He is panting, sweating. I should have asked him about the nightmares, but I didn’t want to be greedy; he told me much, much more than I had expected him to.

“I’m here, I’m here,” I say to comfort him. I pull his arm, gesturing for him to get up and come to bed. When his eyes meet mine, the confusion and fear slowly fade out of them.

“I thought you left,” he whispers. We lie down and he pulls me as close to him as possible. I run my fingers through his damp and unruly hair, and his eyes flutter closed.

I don’t say anything. I just continue to rub his scalp to calm him.

“Don’t ever leave me, Tess,” he whispers and falls back into sleep. My heart nearly explodes at his plea, and I know that as long as he wants me here, I’m here.

Chapter fifty-seven

The next morning I wake up before Hardin and manage to roll him off me and untangle our legs without waking him. The memory of him saying my name in relief and all the secrets about himself he disclosed makes my stomach flutter. He was so unguarded and open last night, it made me care for him even more. The depth of my feelings for him scares me and I feel like I can tell they’re there, but I’m not really ready to face them yet. I get my curling iron and the small bag of Steph’s makeup I borrowed, with her permission, of course, and walk down to the bathroom.

The hallway is empty, and no one knocks on the door while I get ready. I’m not as lucky as I make my way back to Hardin’s room. Three guys come down the hall in my direction, one of them Logan.

“Hey, Tessa!” he chirps and flashes me his perfect smile.

“Hey, how are you?” I feel awkward with the three of them staring at me.

“Good, just on our way out. Are you like moving in here or something?” he says, and laughs.

“No, definitely not. Just . . . um . . . visiting.” I have no clue what to say. The tall guy bends down and whispers something into Logan’s ear. I can’t make out what he says, but I look away. “Well, I will see you guys later,” I say.

“Yeah, see you tonight at the party,” Logan says and walks away.

What party? Why wouldn’t Hardin mention a party to me? Maybe he doesn’t plan on being there? Or maybe he doesn’t want you to come, my subconscious adds. Who throws a party on a Tuesday, anyway?

When I reach Hardin’s door, it opens before I reach the handle.

“Where were you?” he says and opens it wide enough for me to walk in.

“Doing my hair. I wanted to let you sleep,” I tell him.

“I told you not to be wandering the halls, Tessa,” he scolds.

“And I told you not to boss me around, Hardin,” I add sarcastically, and his features soften.

“Touché.” He laughs and steps closer to me. He places one of his hands on the small of my back and puts the other beneath my shirt and on my stomach. His fingers are rough with calluses but glide gently on my skin, moving higher and higher on my stomach.

“However, you really should wear a bra when you’re roaming the halls of a fraternity house, Theresa.” He brings his mouth to my ear at the exact moment that his fingers find my breasts. He rubs over the sensitive area with his thumbs, making them harden under his touch. He sucks in a sharp breath, and I am frozen but my heart is racing. “You never know what kind of perverts are lurking in the halls,” he says softly into my ear.

His thumbs swirl around my nipples, before he pinches them lightly. My head falls to his chest and I am unable to control my moans as his fingers continue their gentle assault.

“I bet I could make you come just by doing this,” he says and applies more pressure.

I had no idea that this could feel this . . . good. I nod and Hardin chuckles, his mouth against my ear. “Do you want me to do that? Make you come?” he asks and I nod again. Does he even have to ask? My heavy breathing and shaky knees should give it away.

“Good girl, now let’s move to the—” he begins when the alarm on my cell phone goes off.

I snap to attention. “Oh God! We have to leave in ten minutes, Hardin, and you’re not even dressed. I’m not even dressed!”

I pull away, but he shakes his head and pulls me back to him, this time pulling my pants and panties down my legs. He reaches over and shuts my phone off.

“I only need two minutes; that leaves eight to get dressed.” He lifts me off the floor, taking me over to the bed. He sits me down on it, kneels in front of me, and pulls me by my ankles to the edge. “Spread your legs, baby,” he coos, and I oblige.