Hardin and you would hook up from time to time. It was fun for a while, but he started to express himself more, open up, and just overall become a nicer guy with you. It made you somewhat fall for him and you thought he’d already fallen for you after all he’s said about his life, trauma, and experiences to you.

You were wrong.

Hardin constantly gets with other girls, you knew yourself that you shouldn’t have gotten attached but you couldn’t help it. If you peeling back the rude exterior, Hardin was a pretty decent guy. More than that. But a guy you could never fully have. You’re just a regular for him.

—-

The heat of him is all around you—his lips moving slowly, almost reverently, over yours. His hand is under your shirt, warm against your skin as it traces along your waist. You’re breathless, pulled under by the way he touches you, how close he feels. Your back sinks deeper into the couch. Your fingers curl, ready to slip into his hair, his soft, black curls— Then his phone pings. He doesn’t move. But you see it. Molly. You know that name. You remember her lips on his, the way she looked at you afterward like she already knew something you didn’t. And now, the air shifts. The closeness blurs, just for a second. Just long enough.