It wasn’t until they were about fifteen minutes away from their destination that his plan began to backfire a bit.
“So, what’s the deal with you and that weird Miracle? Just tell me up front.”
“She’s not weird, Cheyenne. Just because she doesn’t follow you and your plastic friends around doesn’t make her weird.”
“Then what does it make her?”
“Smart.”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Seriously, Hardy, what is your deal? Is it just that you want in her pants? Because I can think of twenty girls that are a lot prettier than her that would put out for you in a heartbeat.”
“What?” Hardy said, flabbergasted. “No! Good god, Cheyenne, have you always been like this?”
“Like what? Willing to do anything to keep you? Yes. It’s just that I’ve never had to before. You’ve never acted like this before. I’m trying to be understanding here.”
“Giving someone permission to go sleep around, offering to find them someone to cheat on you with is sick, Cheyenne, not understanding! That’s not love. That’s…I don’t even know what that is, but it’s not healthy.”
“Then what is it? What does she have that I don’t have?”
A soul? Hardy wanted to say, but he didn’t. He bit his tongue. That would be going too far. Cheyenne obviously had some pretty significant issues that he’d either never recognized or had somehow managed to overlook. That wasn’t very hard to do with someone as beautiful and sexually adventurous as Cheyenne. But that wasn’t enough for him anymore. He wanted more. He wanted substance and depth and love. He wanted Miracle. It was as simple as that.
At his continued silence, Cheyenne turned in her seat toward him, asking again, “What is it, Hardy? Tell me.”
“I don’t know, Cheyenne. There’s just something about her. It’s just…she’s just…it’s like she has a beautiful soul.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew how cheesy they sounded. The thing was, they were true, cheesy or not. He couldn’t describe it any better than that.
“So you’re saying what? I’m a bad person?”
Hardy glanced over at Cheyenne. Was she?
He thought about that before he answered. “No, you’re not a bad person, Cheyenne. You’re just a little…self-absorbed.”
Hardy didn’t want to start a fight, and he thought his explanation was reasonable. Although he thought she was likely quite a bit more than just self-absorbed, he didn’t really think she was a terrible person; she was just not even in the same league as Miracle.
“I can be better, Hardy. I can try harder.”
For a second, Hardy felt sorry for her. She really was messed up.
“Nobody’s perfect, Cheyenne. We can all do better, but do it for yourself, not for me. Not for anyone else.”
She turned to face the windshield once more. Hardy could see the frown that creased her forehead and noticed her chewing her lip. Maybe she was really listening to him, really taking it in and thinking about it. He didn’t want to hurt her, but she needed to know how she was perceived by others, that she didn’t always say and do the nicest things.
Finally she spoke. Hardy realized he was wrong about how she’d assimilated the information. “You’re right, Hardy. Nobody’s perfect. Everyone has flaws. And I’m sure little Miss Miracle is nowhere near as perfect as you think she is. You’ll see that soon enough.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Hardy could feel his hackles rising at what it seemed she was insinuating.
Cheyenne looked at him and smiled. He was certain if a viper could smile, that’s what it would look like. It made him feel more than a little uneasy about what she might be capable of.
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“So help me, Cheyenne, if you—”
“Don’t bother with your threats, Hardy. If she’s even half the person you think she is, then neither of you has anything to fear, right?”
Hardy clenched and unclenched his teeth, struggling to keep his calm. “Be very careful, Cheyenne.” His voice was low and deadly, even to his own ears.
“You, too, Hardy,” she countered.
It was going to be a long weekend.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Shortly after arriving at the lake house, Hardy claimed exhaustion so he could escape to his room. Even though he really was tired, he wasn’t able to sleep for thinking of Miracle.
He talked himself into and out of texting her at least a dozen times. He tossed and turned and wrestled with the covers as much as he wrestled with how to handle things with Miracle. It would’ve helped him to know where he stood with her. And where Jonah stood with her. Was she serious about him again? Or was he just an old habit, a comfort from her other life?
The more Hardy thought about the Miracle he’d come to know, the more he convinced himself that she didn’t have any real feelings for Jonah, that she was more than likely just too sweet and nice to blow him off.
Or at least that’s what Hardy told himself.
After that, it didn’t take much for Hardy to convince himself to text her. He used the excuse that if she really didn’t have feelings for Jonah, he wouldn’t be stepping on anybody’s toes.
He typed and deleted the message what felt like a hundred times before he hit the wrong button the hundredth time and sent it by accident. As he stared at the words, he tried to imagine how Miracle would interpret them.
I’m sorry about the other day in the woods. I’ve missed you at school.
After agonizing about it for a while, Hardy finally decided to let it go, reminding himself what’s done is done. He couldn’t undo it and texting more in an attempt at damage control would likely only make things worse. So, putting his phone aside, Hardy turned onto his side and tried to put it—and Miracle—out of his mind.
When he heard the ding of an incoming message, he nearly rolled out of bed scrambling to grab his phone.
My fault. Not yours. And I can’t explain why, but I miss you, too.
Hardy’s heart raced. Suddenly, he was no longer the least bit tired; he was elated.
Sitting up in bed, Hardy cautioned himself not to read too much into the short message. Two questions chased each other through his brain: what did the message mean and what did he want it to mean.
He’d been so wrapped up in just experiencing Miracle, in being in awe of her that he hadn’t really taken the time to think about what he wanted from her. But he needed to. Miracle had been through so much. A girl like that deserved his thoughtfulness rather than his impulsiveness, his selfishness.