The shampoo and body wash are both strong musky scents. I miss my vanilla shampoo, but this is fine for one night. It probably would have made more sense for Hardin to stay with me in my room, but Steph would be in there, and it would be awkward to explain everything, and I don’t imagine Hardin would be as affectionate if she was around. The thought bothers me, but I push it back.

“Could you hand me a towel?” I ask him and shut off the water. “Or two, if you have enough.” I like to have one for my hair and one for my body.

His hand pushes through the curtain holding two towels. I thank him, and he mutters something that I don’t understand.

He pulls his jeans down as I dry off and turns the water back on. His long arms pull back the curtain and I can’t help but stare at his naked body. The more I get to see him this way, the more beautiful the designs printed on his skin are to me. I continue to stare as he steps into the shower. The water sprays onto his dark hair and he closes the curtain. I should have taken one with him, not because he is pouting, but because now I really want to.

“I’m going to go back to your room,” I tell him, figuring he’s ignoring me anyway.

He jerks the curtain back, causing the rings to scrape against the rod. “No, you’re not.”

“Okay, what is your problem?” I snap.

“Nothing, you’re just not going back by yourself. There are thirty guys living here, so you don’t need to be wandering the halls.”

“No, there’s something else; you have been pouting since I said you couldn’t take a shower with me.”

“No . . . I haven’t.”

“Tell me why or I will go out there in this towel,” I threaten, knowing I would never actually do it. His eyes narrow and he reaches out for my arm to stop me, splashing water on the floor.

“I just don’t like being told no.” His voice is low but much softer than it was moments ago.

I imagine that when it comes to girls Hardin hardly, if ever, hears the word no. My mind tells me to tell him to get used to it, but I haven’t told him no until this point, either. As soon as he touches me, I do whatever he wants.

“Well, I am not like the other girls, Hardin,” I snap, my jealousy coming forward.

A small smile plays on his lips as the water runs over his face. “I know, Tess. I know.” He closes the curtain and I pull my clothes on and he turns the water off.

“You can wear some of my clothes to bed,” he tells me and I nod. I barely hear him because I am too focused on his glistening body in front of me. He rubs the white towel against his hair, leaving it sticking up all over his head, then wraps the towel around his waist. The towel hangs so low on his hips he looks like pure sex. It feels like the temperature in the bathroom has risen twenty degrees. Bending down to open a cabinet, he pulls out a hairbrush and places it into my hand.

“Come,” he says and I shake my head, trying to clear the dirty thoughts from my mind. We walk down the hall and turn the corner as a tall blond guy almost runs into me . . . I look up at his face and my bones chill.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” he purrs and I feel nauseous.

“Hardin,” I squeak and he turns around; it takes him only a moment to remember this is the same guy who tried to make a move on me before.

“Get away from her, Neil,” he barks and Neil pales. He must not have seen Hardin before he turned the corner. His mistake.

“My bad, Scott,” he says and walks away.

“Thanks,” I whisper to Hardin. He wraps his hand over mine and unlocks his door.

“I should just beat the shit out of him, yeah?” Hardin says as I take a seat on the bed.

“No! You shouldn’t!” I beg. I can’t tell if he is serious, but I don’t want to find out. He grabs the remote off his dresser and switches the television on before opening the drawer and tossing me a T-shirt and a pair of boxers.

I remove my jeans and pull the boxers on, rolling them a few times at the top.

“Could I maybe wear the shirt you wore today?” I don’t realize how weird it sounds until the words are out.

“What?” He grins.

“I . . . well . . . never mind. I don’t know what I was saying,” I lie. I want to wear your dirty shirt because it smells good? That sounds strange and crazy. He chuckles and picks the shirt off the floor and walks over to me.

“Here, babe,” he says and hands it to me. I am glad he didn’t embarrass me further, but I still feel a little silly.

“Thanks,” I chirp and pull my own shirt off and remove my bra, then slip his shirt on. I inhale and find it smells just as amazing as I knew it would.

Catching this, his eyes soften as he looks at me. “You are beautiful,” he says and looks away. I get the feeling he didn’t mean to say the words out loud, which makes my heart swell even more. I smile at him and take a step toward him.

“So are you.”

“Enough of that,” he says with a laugh as his cheeks flush. “What time do you need to be up in the morning?” he asks and sits on the bed, browsing through the channels.

“Five, but I will set my own alarm.”

“Five? Five in the morning? Your first class is at what, nine? Why do you get up so early?”

“I don’t know, just to be prepared, I guess?” I rake the hairbrush through my hair.

“Well, let’s get up at seven; my body doesn’t function before seven,” he tells me and I groan. Hardin and I are so different.

“Six thirty?” I try to compromise.




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