After Ever Happy (After #4) (46 page)

“Seems like it.” I shrug, trying my fucking hardest to not be a sulking asshole about it.

“We aren’t. We spend time together, but I’m not dating at all.”

Looking at her, I try to determine if she’s telling the truth. “He wants to. The way he touched your hand.”

“Well, I don’t. Not yet.” She stares down at her feet while we cross the street. There aren’t nearly as many people out as earlier today, but the streets are still far from empty.

“Not yet? You haven’t dated anyone?” I watch a fruit vendor pack up for the night while praying for the answer that I want to hear.

“No, I don’t intend to date for a while.” I feel her eyes on me when she adds, “Are you? Dating anyone, I mean?”

The relief I feel to find out that she hasn’t been dating is beyond words. I turn and smile at her. “No. I don’t date.” I hope she catches my joke.

And she does smile. “I’ve heard that before.”

“I’m a conservative guy, remember?”

She laughs but doesn’t add any commentary as we stroll block after block. I need to talk to her about walking home this late. I have spent night after night, week after week, trying to imagine how she’s living her life here. Her working long days as a waitress and wandering home in the darkness of New York City was not something that crossed my mind.

“Why are you working in a restaurant?”

“Sophia got me the job. It’s a really nice place, and I make more money than you would think.”

“More money than you would at Vance?” I ask her, knowing the answer.

“I don’t mind it. It keeps me busy.”

“Vance told me you didn’t even ask for a recommendation, and you know he’s planning on opening something here, too.”

She is staring down the street now, mindlessly gazing into traffic. “I know, but I want to do something on my own. I like my job, for now, until I can get into NYU.”

“You haven’t gotten into NYU yet?” I exclaim, unable to hide my surprise.
Why hasn’t anyone told me any of this?
I force Landon to give me updates on Tessa’s life, but apparently he likes to leave out the important shit.

“No, but I am hoping for the spring semester.” She reaches her hand into her bag and pulls out a set of keys. “The deadlines had all passed.”

“You’re okay with that?” I’m surprised by the calm in her voice.

“Yeah, I’m only nineteen. It will be fine.” She shrugs, and I think my heart stops. “It’s not ideal, but I have time to make up for it. I could always take double courses and maybe even graduate early like you did.”

I don’t know what to say about this . . . calm and nonpanicked Tessa, Tessa without a rock-solid plan, but I’m more than happy to be around her.

“Yeah, I suppose you could—”

Before I can finish, a man steps out in front of us. His face is covered in dirt and overgrown whiskers. Instinctively, I step in front of Tessa.

“Hey, girly,” the man says.

My stance shifts from paranoid to protective, and I stand up straight, waiting for this asshole to try something.

“Hey, Joe. How are you tonight?” Tessa gently nudges me out of the way and pulls a small bag from her purse.

“I’m good, darling.” The man smiles and reaches his hand out for the bag. “What did you bring this time?”

I force myself to stay back, but not too far.

“Some fries and those sliders that you love.” She smiles, and the man grins back before unfolding the paper bag and lifting it to his face to smell the contents.

“You’re too good to me.” He pushes a dirt-stained hand into the bag and pulls out a handful of fries to shove into his mouth. “Want some?” He looks at each of us with one fry hanging from his mouth.

“No.” Tessa giggles, waving her hand in front of her. “You enjoy your dinner, Joe. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She waves for me to follow her around the corner, where she punches in her code to Landon’s apartment building.

“How do you know that guy?”

She stops in front of a row of mailboxes lining the lobby and opens one with her key while I wait for her response.

“He lives there, on that corner. He’s there each night, and so when we have leftovers in the kitchen, I try and bring them to him.”

“Is that safe?” I look behind us as we walk down the empty hall.

“Giving someone food? Yes.” She laughs. “I’m not as fragile as I used to be.” Her smile is genuine, not at all offended, and I don’t know what to say.

Inside the apartment, Tessa steps out of her shoes and pulls the tie from her neck. I haven’t allowed myself too many glances at her body. I have tried to keep my eyes on her face, her hair, hell, even her ears, but now, as she unbuttons the black shirt, revealing only a tank top underneath, I am distracted and I can’t seem to remember why I was avoiding admiring such a beautiful thing. Her fucking body is the most perfect, most fucking mouthwatering body, and the curve of her hips is something I fantasize about daily.

She goes to the kitchen and calls over her shoulder, “I’m going to get to bed. I have an early shift tomorrow.”

I walk toward her and wait until she finishes her glass of water. “You work tomorrow, too?”

“Yeah, I work all day.”

“Why?”

She sighs. “Well, I have bills to pay.”

She’s lying. “And?” I press.

She wipes at the counter with her hand for a minute. “And maybe I was trying to avoid you.”

“You’ve been avoiding me long enough, don’t you think?” I raise a brow at her.

She swallows. “I wasn’t avoiding you. You barely reach out to me anymore.”

“That’s because you avoid me.”

She walks past me, pulling her hair from its ponytail as she does. “I didn’t know what to say. I was pretty hurt by you leaving the graduation and—”

“You
left. Not me.”

“What?” She stops and turns around.

“You left the graduation. I only left after looking for you for thirty minutes.”

She looks offended. “I looked for
you.
I did. I never would have just left your graduation.”

“Okay, well, I seem to remember a different story there, but there’s no real point in arguing over it now.”

Her eyes lower and she seems to agree with me. “You’re right.” She refills her empty glass. And takes a small sip.

“Look at us, not fighting and shit,” I tease her.

She leans her elbow onto the counter and shuts the faucet off. “ ‘And shit,’ ” she repeats with a smile.

“And shit.”

We both laugh and continue to stare at each other.

“This isn’t as awkward as I thought it would be,” Tessa says. Untying her apron, her fingers get stuck on the knot.

“Need help?”

“No.” Her answer comes too quickly and she tugs at the strings again.

“You sure about that?”

After a few more minutes of struggling, she finally scowls and turns around to give me access to her back. Within a few seconds I’ve untangled the strings and she’s counting her tip money on the counter.

“Why won’t you get another internship? You’re more than a waitress.”

“There is nothing wrong with being a server, and this isn’t the end goal for me. I don’t mind it and—”

“And because you don’t want to ask Vance for help.” Her eyes widen. I shake my head, pushing my hair back. “You act like I don’t know you, Tess.”

“It’s not only that; I just like that this job is
mine
. He would have to pull some serious strings to get me an internship out here—I’m not even actively enrolled in college for a few months.”

“Sophia helped you get your job,” I point out. Not to be cruel, but I just want to hear her say the truth. “What you really wanted was something that wasn’t tied to me. Am I correct?”

She takes a few breaths, looking everywhere in the room except at me. “Yes, that’s true.”

We stand there quietly, too near each other and too far away in the tiny kitchen. After a few seconds, she stands up straight and gathers her apron and water glass. “I need to go to bed. I have to work all day tomorrow and it’s late.”

“Call in,” I casually suggest, even though I want to demand it.

“I can’t just call in,” she lies.

“Yes, you can.”

“I’ve never missed a day.”

“You’ve only been there three weeks. You haven’t had time to miss a day, and really, it’s what people do on a Saturday in New York. They call in to work and spend time with better company.”

A playful smile tugs at the corners of her full lips. “And you are this said better company?”

“Of course.” I wave my hands over my torso to prove my point.

She regards me for a moment, and I can tell she’s actually considering taking the day off. But at last she says, “No, I can’t. I’m sorry, I just can’t. I can’t risk the shift not being covered. It will make me look bad, and I need this job.” She frowns, all playfulness gone now, replaced by overthinking.

I almost tell her that she doesn’t actually need the job, that what she needs to do is pack her shit and come back to Seattle with me, but I bite my tongue. Dr. Tran says control is a negative factor in our relationship, and I “need to find the balance between control and guidance.”

Dr. Tran really pisses me off.

“I get it.” I shrug, mentally cursing the good doctor out for a few beats before smiling at Tessa. “I’ll let you go to bed, then.”

With that, she turns on her heel and retreats to her closet-room, leaving me alone in the kitchen, then alone on the sofa, and then alone in the dreams that come.

I
n my dreams, Hardin’s voice rings through loud and clear, begging me to stop.

Begging me to stop? What is that . . .

My eyes open, and I sit up in bed.

“Stop,” he strains out again.

It takes me a moment to realize this isn’t one of my dreams, it’s Hardin’s actual voice.

I rush out of my room and into the living room, where Hardin is sleeping on the couch. He’s not yelling or thrashing the way he used to, but his voice is pleading, and when he says, “Please, stop,” my heart sinks.

“Hardin, wake up. Please, wake up,” I calmly say, running my fingers over the clammy skin on his shoulder.

His eyes pop open, and his hands lift to touch my face. He’s disoriented when he sits up and pulls me onto his lap. I don’t fight it. I couldn’t possibly.

Silent seconds pass by before he rests his head against my chest.

“How often?” My heart is twisted and aching for him.

“Only about once a week or so. I take pills for them now, but on nights like tonight, it was too late to take them.”

“I’m sorry.” I force myself to forget that we haven’t seen each other in months. I don’t think about the way we have already slipped back into touching one another. I don’t care, though; I would never turn away from comforting him, no matter the circumstance.

“Don’t be. I’m fine.” He nuzzles further into my neck and wraps both arms around my waist. “I’m sorry that I woke you.”

“Don’t be.” I lean into the back of the couch.

“I’ve missed you.” He yawns, drawing my body into his chest. He lies back, bringing me with him, and I let him.

“Me, too.”

I feel his lips press against my forehead and I shiver, basking in the warmth and familiarity of his lips on my skin. It doesn’t make sense to me how it could be this easy, this natural, to find myself in Hardin’s arms again.

“I love how real this is,” he whispers. “It’s never going to go away, you know that, don’t you?”

Grasping for a sliver of logic, I say, “We have different lives now.”

“I’m still waiting for you to see it, that’s all.”

“See what?” When he doesn’t respond, I look up at him to find his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted in sleep.

I WAKE TO THE SOUND
of the coffeepot beeping in the kitchen. Hardin’s face is the first thing I see when my eyes open, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.

I detach my body from his, lifting his arms off my waist, and scramble to my feet. Landon walks out from the kitchen, holding a cup of coffee between his hands. An unmistakable smile is painted across his face.

“What?” I ask, stretching my arms. I haven’t shared a bed, or couch, with anyone since Hardin. One night Robert stayed over because he locked himself out of his apartment, but he slept on the couch and I slept in my bed.

“Noooooo-thing.” Landon’s smile grows, and he tries to hide it by taking a drink of steaming coffee.

I roll my eyes at him, fighting a smile, and walk to my room to grab my phone. I panic when the time reads eleven thirty. I haven’t slept this late since I moved here, and now I don’t have time to take a shower before I leave for work.

I pour a cup of coffee and place it inside the freezer to cool while I brush my teeth, wash my face, and get dressed. I’ve become a huge fan of iced coffee, but I hate paying the overpriced fee at the coffee shops for them to only dump ice into the cup. Mine tastes just about the same. Landon agrees.

Hardin is still asleep when I leave, and I find myself leaning over him, ready to kiss him goodbye. Fortunately, Landon walks into the room at the right time, stopping my insane behavior.
What is wrong with me?

The walk to work is filled with thoughts of Hardin: how it felt to sleep in his arms, how comforting it was to wake up on his chest. I’m confused, as I always am when encountering him, and feel rushed to make it to work on time.

When I get to the break room, Robert is already there and opens my locker for me when he sees me coming.

“I’m late, did they notice?” I rush to throw my purse in and close the locker.

“No, you’re only five minutes late. How was your night?” His blue eyes shine with a barely veiled curiosity.

I shrug. “It was okay.” I know how Robert feels about me, and it’s not fair of me to talk about Hardin with him, whether he encourages it or not.

“Okay, huh?” He smiles.

“Better than I thought.” I stick with short answers.

“It’s okay, Tessa. I know how you feel about him.” He touches my shoulder with his hand. “I’ve known since that first time I met you.”

I am getting emotional now, wishing Robert weren’t so kind, wishing Hardin weren’t in New York for the weekend, then taking that back and wishing he would stay longer. Robert doesn’t ask any more questions, and we’re so busy at work that I don’t have time to think about anything else except serving food and drinks until one in the morning. Even my breaks go too quickly, allowing me just enough time to shovel down a plate of meatballs and queso.