The songs for this chapter are:

 She- Parachute

The girl- City and Colour

Addicted- Kelly Clarkson

Hardin's POV.

"You're going to pass out on me, aren't you?" I lean over and whisper to Tessa. She's pale and her small hands are shaking on her lap. I gather them with one of my hands and offer her an assuring squeeze. She smiles at me, a nice change from the scowl that covered her face the entire time from the ticket kiosk until now.

That TSA agent was hitting on her, I recognized the stupid fucking grin on his face when she smiled at him while putting her shoes back on. I have the same fucking grin. I had every right to tell him to fuck off,  but of course she didn't agree and that's why she has been pissy since she dragged me away, my finger high in the air at him. Her attitude only heightened when I pressed for her to button her cardigan. The old man next to me is a fucking pervert and he's lucky she has the window seat and I can shield his eyes from her. Being Tessa, she refused to button the damn thing, leaving her tits on display for everyone to see. Granted, the shirt isn't that low cut but when she bends down, you can see straight down it. She ignored my protests and claimed that I can't control her. I'm not trying to control her, I'm trying to prevent men from ogling over her not so subtle chest.

"No, I'm okay," she hesisitantly answers. Her eyes give her away.

"We should be taking off anytime," I glance up at the flight attendant making her way through the cabin to check the overhead compartments for the third time. They are all fucking closed, lady, lets get a move on it before I have to carry Tessa off of this plane before we take off. Actually, halting the trip could work in my favor really.

"Last chance to hop off of the plane. The tickets aren't refundable but I'll go ahead and add them to your tab," I tuck her loose hair behind her ear and she gives me the smallest smile I've ever seen. She's still pissed off but her nerves are causing her to soften up toward me.

"Hardin," she quietly whines. She rests her head against the window and closes her eyes. I hate to see her so nervous, it makes me anxious and this trip has me on fucking anxiety overload as it is. I lean across and pull the cover over her window, hoping that will help.

"How much longer?" I impatiently bark at the flight attendant as she passes our row.

Her eyes move from Tessa to me and she raises a snobby brow, "A few minutes," she forces a smile for the sake of her job. The man next to me shifts uncomfortably and I wish I would have purchased an extra ticket so I wouldn't have to worry about sitting this close to an obnoxious asshole. He smells like stale tobacco.

"It's been longer than a few-" I begin. Tessa's hand reaches over to mine, her eyes are now open, pleading for me not to cause a scene. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes for the drama of it, "fine," I assure her, turning away from the attendant and she continues down the aisle.

"Thank you," Tessa mouths. Instead of resting her head against the window, Tessa's head gently rests against my arm. I tap her thigh and direct her to lift up so I can put my arm around her. She nuzzles into me and I sighs in content when I gently tighten my arm around her body. I love that sound.

The plane begins to move slowly down the runway, Tessa's eyes screw shut.

By the time the plane is in the air, Tessa has the pane open on her window and her gray eyes are wide in amazement as she stares out of it. "This is amazing," she grins. All the color has now seeped back onto her face. She's glowing with excited and it's contagious as hell. I try to fight my grin but it's impossible as she babbles on about how everything "just looks so small,"

"See, it wasn't so bad. We haven't crashed yet," I distastefully remark. Scoffs and coughs are heard through the nearly silent cabin but I don't give a shit. Tessa understands my humor, for the most part at least, and she shoots me an eye roll and a playful jab in the chest with her finger.

"Hush," she warns and I chuckle.

After three hours, she's restless. I knew she would be, we've watched some of the shitty programming the airline sponsors and went through the SkyMall magazine twice, both of us agreed that a dog crate disguised as a television stand is certainly not worth two thousand dollars.

"It's going to be a long nine hours," I say to her.

"Only six now," she corrects me. Her fingers trace over the anchor tattoo above my wrist.

"Only six," I repeat, "take a nap,"

"I can't,"

"Why not?"

She looks up at me, "what do you think my father is doing?" Shit. "I mean, I know Landon watched him last time but we will be gone for five days this time," fuck.

"He will be fine," he's going to be pissed but he will get over it and thank her later.

"I'm glad we declined your father's offer," Fucking hell.

"Why?" I choke, searching her face.

"It's too expensive,"

"And?"

"I don't feel comfortable with your father spending that amount of money on my father. It's not his responsibility and we don't know for sure that my father is even-"

"He's a drug addict, Tessa." I interrupt her. I know she still doesn't want to admit it but she knows it's true, "and my father may as well pay for it,"

I need to call Landon as soon as we land to find out how the "intervention" went. As much as I hope her shit bag of a dad agreed, I feel guilty that she wasn't in on the plan. I spent hours punching and kicking that bag at the gym, pondering over this shit. At the end of it, the solution was simple. Either Richard takes his ass to rehab on my father's dime, or he's out of Tessa's life for good. I won't have his fucking addiction being a burden on her, I cause her enough fucking problems and if anyone is going to cause her stress, it will be me. I sent Landon to do it, to tell him that he had to choose one or the other, he couldn't have both. I figured it wouldn't get violent if Landon does it, I can't say the same for myself. As much as it pisses me off that my father will be the one helping Tessa since he's the one paying, I couldn't turn him down. I wanted to, but I couldn't.

"I don't know," she sighs, looking out the window, "I need to think about it," too late for that.

"Well.." I begin, she frowns at the tone of my voice.

"What did you do?" She narrows her eyes and pulls away from me. She can't go far, she's stuck on this flight with me.

"We will talk about it later," I glance at the man next to me. These seats really should offer more space between them. If the armrest between Tessa and I wasn't lifted, I would be sitting on top of the guy.

"You sent him to rehab didn't you?" She forcefully whispers, careful not to cause a scene.

"I didn't send him anywhere," it's true. I don't know whether he agreed to go or not.

"You tried though, didn't you?"

"Perhaps," I admit. She shakes her head in disbelief and leans her head back against the headrest, staring off into nothing. "You're pissed, huh?" I ask her.

She ignores me. "Theresa," my voice is too loud and has the intended effect on her. Her eyes snap open and she turns her head to me.

"I'm not mad," she whispers, "I'm just surprised and I'm trying to figure out how I feel about it, okay?"

"Okay," her reaction was much better than I had anticipated.

"I can't stand when you keep things from me, you do it, my mother does it, I'm not a child. I am capable of handling things that are thrown at me, wouldn't you say?"

I stop myself from saying the first thought that comes to my mind, I am getting better and better at this shit, "yes," I calmly reply, "but that doesn't mean that I won't try and filter the bullshit for you," her eyes soften and she nods once.

"I understand that but I need you to stop keeping things from me. Anything that involves you, Landon, or my father I need to know about. I always end up finding out anyway, why prolong the inevitable?" she asks.

"Okay," I agree without elaborating, "from now on I won't keep shit from you," this doesn't include anything from the past, I'm only agreeing that from this moment on I will try not to keep her in the dark.

A flash of emotion moves over her face but I couldn't catch it, I almost thought it was guilt, "unless it's something that I am better off not knowing," she softly adds. Okay?

"What kind of scale are we going on here?" I ask her.

"Something that I would be better off without being told doesn't count. For example, the fact that my gynecologist is a male," she informs me.

"What?" Tessa's doctor being a male never crossed my mind, I had assumed it was a female this entire time.

"See, you were better off not knowing that, weren't you?" She isn't even trying to hide her little smart ass grin at my irritation and jealousy.

"You'll get a new doctor,"

She slowly shakes her head at me, telling me she will do no such thing. I lean over and whisper into her ear, "you're lucky the bathrooms on this thing are too small to fuck you in," her breathing hitches and she immediately squeezes her thighs together. I love her reaction to my mouth, it's always instant. I need to distract her and change the subject for both of our sanity's.

"I would press you against the door and fuck you against the wall," I move my hand further up her closed thighs, "I would cover your mouth to muffle your screams," she gulps, "it would feel so fucking good, your legs wrapped around my waist, your fingers tugging at my hair," her eyes are wide, pupils blown, and fuck, I wish the bathrooms weren't so damn small. Literally, I can't expand my arms in the tiny space. The fact that I paid over one thousand dollars per round-trip ticket, you would think I could at least fuck my girl in the damn bathroom during the long flight.

"Squeezing your legs together won't make the ache disappear," I continue into her ear. I lower her tray table so I can bring my hand to the junction of her thighs, "only I can," I remind her. She looks like she's about to come from my words alone, "the rest of the flight will be pretty uncomfortable for you, with soaking panties and all," I press a kiss beneath her ear, using my tongue to tease her further and the man next to me coughs.

"Problem?" I ask him, not giving a fuck if he heard anything I said to her. He quickly shakes his head and takes his attention back to the e-reader in his hand, I lean over, noting the first paragraph on the dimly lit page. I spot the name "Holden" and immediately chuckle. Only pretentious middle aged men and bearded hipsters actually enjoy reading The Catcher in The Rye. What is so appealing about an over privileged, teenaged fucking stalker? Nothing.

"Shall I continue?" I lean back over to Tessa, who is now panting.

"No," she lifts her tray table, clicking it closed, and ending my fun.

"Only five more hours now," I grin at her, ignoring how hard I am from the thought of how wet she must be right now.

"You're an asshole," she whispers, the smile that I love plays on her lips.

"And you love me," I counter, making that smile grow.

..

Navigating through Heathrow wasn't as bad as I assumed it would be. We got our bags quickly, Tessa was quiet most of the time, her hand in mine was the only assurance I needed that she wasn't too upset about the rehab shit. The rental car was ready for us and I watched in amusement as Tessa walked to the wrong side of the car.

By the time we make it to Hampstead, she is asleep. She tried to stay awake and stare out of the window, taking it all in, but she couldn't keep her eyes open. The old town looks the same as it did the last time I was here, of course it does, why wouldn't it? It has only been a few months. For some reason I feel like the moment that I drove past the population sign with Tessa in the passenger seat, the village would have altered somehow upon her arrival.

As I pass the historic homes and museums, I finally arrive to the common residential part of town. Contrary to popular belief, not everyone in Hampstead lives in a historic mansion and swims in wealth. All that is clear as I pull into my mum's gravel driveway. The old house looks like it could topple over any day now, and I'm glad to see the "Sold" sign on the lawn. Her future husband's house, just next door, is in much better shape than this shithole and it's twice the size.

"Tessa," I call her out of her deep sleep. She's probably drooled all over the damn window.

My mum appears at the front door only seconds after the headlights shine through the windows. She pushes open the screen door and rushes down the small steps like a mad woman. Tessa's eyes open and she focuses on my mum, who now is pulling at the passenger door handle to get to Tessa. What is it with everyone liking her so much?

"Tessa! Hardin!" My mum's voice is high and overly excited as Tessa unbuckles her seatbelt and climbs out of the car. Womanly hugs and greetings are exchanged while I grab the bags from the trunk.

"I'm so glad you two are here," my mum smiles, wiping a tear from her eyes. This is going to be a long weekend.

"Us too," Tessa answers for me and allows my mum to pull her by the hand into the small house.

"I don't like tea, so there won't be any stereotypical English greeting here, but I made some coffee. I know you both love your coffee," my mum hums.

Tessa laughs, thanking her. My mum is keeping her distance from me, obviously trying not to set me off during the weekend of her wedding. The two women disappear into the kitchen and I take the stairs to my old bedroom to get rid of these bags. I hear their laughter travel through the house and I try to convince myself that nothing catastrophic will happen this weekend. Everything will be fine.

The room is empty except my old twin bed and a dresser. The wallpaper has been stripped off leaving a hideous trail of glue along the surface. My mum is obviously trying to get the place ready for the new owner, but it doesn't look like she's doing too good of a job with removing the wallpaper.

Tessa's POV.

"I still can't believe you both came," Anne says to me. She hands me a cup of coffee, black, just the way I like it and I smile at her thoughtfulness. She's a beautiful woman with Hardin's eyes and smile and she's dressed in a deep blue track suit.

"I'm so glad we could make it," I tell her. I get a glance at the clock on the oven, it's already ten p.m.  The long flight and time change has thrown me off.

"Me too. If it wasn't for you I know he wouldn't be here," she places her hand over mine.

Unsure how to respond, I smile. She catches on to my discomfort and changes the subject, "how was the flight? Did Hardin behave?" Her laugh is gentle and I don't have the heart to tell her that her son was a complete tyrant throughout the security scan and half of the flight.

"He was fine," I take a sip of the steaming coffee just as Hardin joins us in the kitchen. The house is old and cramped, too many walls close off too much of the space. The only decorations are brown moving boxes piled in the corners, but I feel oddly comfortable and at ease in Hardin's childhood home. I can tell by the look on his face when he leans down to walk under the archway leading to the kitchen that  he doesn't feel the same way about this house. These walls hold too many memories for him and I instantly begin to dislike the place.

"What's with the wallpaper?" Hardin gestures to the wall.

"I was removing it all to paint for selling but the new owners are planning to tear the house down anyway. They want to build an entirely new home on the lot," his mother explains. I like the idea of the house being demolished.

"Good, it's a shit house anyway," he grumbles and picks my coffee cup to take a drink. "Are you tired?" He turns to me.

"I'm fine," I say, meaning it. I enjoy Anne's humor and warm company. I am tired but there will be plenty of time to sleep, it's still early.

"I've been staying at Robin's house next door, I assumed you wouldn't want to stay there,"

"Obviously not," Hardin replies. I take my coffee back from him, giving him a silent plea to be polite to his mother.

"Anyway," Anne ignores his rude remark, "I have plans for her tomorrow so I hope you can occupy yourself," Anne says. It takes me a moment to realize she's referring to me.

"What sort of plans?" Hardin doesn't seem pleased with the idea.

"Just pre-wedding things, I have an appointment for us at a spa in town and then I would love if she could come to my last fitting to pick up my dress,"

"Of course," I say at the same time that Hardin asks, "how long will that take?"

"Just the afternoon, I'm sure," Anne assures her son, "that's only if you want to go Tessa.  You don't have to, I just thought it would be nice for us to have some time together while you're here,"

"I would love to," I smile at her. Hardin doesn't argue which is good, because he would have lost.

"I'm glad," she smiles, "my friend Susan will be joining us for lunch. She is dying to meet you, she doesn't believe you exist, she-" Hardin begins choking on his coffee, interrupting his mother's sentence.

"Susan Kingsley?" Hardin eyes Anne, his shoulders are tight and his voice is shaky.

"Yes, well her name is no longer Kingsley, she's remarried," Anne stares back at him and I can't help but feel like I'm the outside of a private conversation between mother and son.

Hardin stares back and forth between his mother and the wall before turning on his heel and leaving us alone in the kitchen.

"I'm going to head next door now for bed, if you need anything let me know," the excitement in her voice has faded, she sounds drained. Anne leans over and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before opening the back door and stepping outside.

I stand alone in the kitchen for a few minutes to finish my coffee, which is pointless because I need to go to sleep, but I finish it anyway and rinse the cup out in the sink before heading up the staircase to find Hardin. The upstairs hallway is empty, torn wallpaper hangs on one side of the narrow hallway and I can't help but compare Ken's massive house to this one, the differences are impossible to ignore.

"Hardin?" I call for him. All of the doors are closed and I don't feel comfortable opening them without knowing what is on the other side.

"Second door," he calls back. I follow his voice to the second door at the end of the hallway and push the door open. The handle sticks and I have to use my foot to get the wood to budge.

Hardin is sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands when I enter. He looks up at me and I walk over to him, "what's wrong?" I ask him, running my fingers through his messy hair.

"I shouldn't have brought you here," he says, taking me by surprise.

"Why?" I sit down on the bed next to him, keeping a few inches between our bodies.

"Because," he sighs, "I just shouldn't have," he lays back against the mattress and drapes his arm over his face so I'm unable to read his expression.

"Hardin,"

"I'm tired Tessa, go to sleep," his voice is muffled by his arm and I know that this is his way of ending the conversation.

"Aren't you going to change?" I press, not wanting to go to bed without his shirt.

"No," he rolls over onto his stomach and reaches up to shut off the light.

(I just wanted to say hi to a reader named Leah Davenport, I heard she is going through a tough time right now and I want you to know you are in my thoughts<3 )