We Can't Be Friends
HARDIN'S POV
I pushed open the balcony doors, stepping into the cool night air. The wind kissed my skin, carrying the scent of damp earth and jasmine from the garden below. It should have calmed me. Should have helped me get my damn mind straight.
It didn’t.
I leaned against the railing, jaw tight, fists gripping the cold iron. The stars blinked above like tiny prying eyes, but I ignored them. My thoughts weren’t here—they were with Ariana. With her laugh. Her voice. Her smile that made everything else vanish.
And Beatrice had the audacity to invade that peace.
I took a breath through my nose, trying to slow the boiling blood in my veins.
A sharp knock echoed from the bedroom door.
I didn’t move.
“Go away, Mother,” I muttered, too low for anyone to hear.
I wasn’t in the mood for another lecture about manners or being “open-minded” about Beatrice. I didn’t want peace, not if it meant entertaining snakes.
Another knock.
Still, I didn’t budge. Let her get the message.
Then—click.
The unmistakable sound of the door opening.
My back stiffened. The soft click of heels on the hardwood floor reached my ears like a damn siren.
No. No. No.
And then came the voice I’d hoped I was wrong about.
“I thought you might be here.”
Beatrice.
I turned slowly, every muscle in my body wound tight. She stood in the center of my room like she belonged there, the door still cracked behind her, her silhouette lit from the hallway.
Her lips curled into a knowing smile, her green eyes practically glowing with mischief.
“I knocked,” she said sweetly, like that somehow made this okay.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, voice low and lethal.
She tilted her head, letting her hair fall to one side, the picture of seductive innocence. “You looked tense downstairs. I figured you might want some company.”
I didn’t move. Didn’t blink.
“I’m not interested in company.”
She took a slow step forward, like she hadn’t heard me. Her heels clicked with every movement, the sound grating on my nerves.
“Hardin,” she purred, stopping a few feet away. “Why are you being so hard on yourself? I just want to be friends.”
I barked out a humorless laugh. “Friends?”
She nodded, clasping her hands in front of her like she was some kind of angel. “Yes. Our families have known each other forever. Business partners. Dinner parties. Charity events. We’re practically—”
“Stop,” I snapped. “Don’t twist this. My mother might buy the innocent act, but I don’t.”
Her smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew wider.
“Why are you so convinced I have an ulterior motive?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.
We both knew exactly why.
She took another step forward—too close—and her fingers reached out toward my chest.
I grabbed her wrist before she could touch me.
Hard.
She gasped softly, more surprised than hurt.
I met her gaze without flinching. “Don’t. Touch. Me.”
For a moment, something flickered behind her eyes—anger, maybe, or disappointment—but it vanished just as quickly.
“I’m not trying to seduce you,” she said innocently, though her gaze dipped to my mouth like a liar.
I released her wrist, letting it fall.
“You can stop playing games, Beatrice. Whatever you’re doing with my mother—whatever sweet daughter-in-law act you’re trying to put on—it ends tonight.”
Her expression remained sweet, but her tone shifted. “Why does it bother you so much that I’m close with your mother?”
“Because I know what you’re doing,” I said, stepping closer now. “You’re manipulating her. Hoping she’ll pressure me. You think if you stay in her good graces, you’ll have an in with me. You won’t.”
She blinked at me, feigning confusion. “Hardin—”
“I have a girlfriend,” I said, each word sharp and deliberate.
Beatrice’s lips twitched, not with surprise—but amusement.
“Oh, I know,” she said softly. “Ariana. She’s… sweet.”
Something about the way she said it made my skin crawl.
“But sweetness doesn’t always last,” she added, her voice like honey laced with venom. “Sometimes sweet girls turn bitter when they realize they’ve bitten off more than they can handle.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What the hell does that mean?”
She just smiled again, that maddening, smug smile. “It means you don’t know it yet, Hardin, but you and I? We’re going to be close. Very close.”
I stared at her, disbelief cracking through the fury bubbling beneath my skin.
“That’s never going to happen,” I said coldly. “The only relationship we’ll ever have is professional. And even that is hanging by a thread.”
She stepped back then, gracefully, smoothing her skirt. “You’re angry now. That’s okay. But anger fades. Chemistry doesn’t.”
“You delusional snake—”
“You’ll see,” she cut in, lifting her chin. “Soon, darling.”
She let the word linger in the air, like poison.
Then she turned, hips swaying with deliberate grace as she walked toward the door. She didn’t rush. She didn’t hide.
She paused in the doorway, glancing over her shoulder.
“That girlfriend of yours? She won’t last.”
The door clicked shut behind her.
And just like that, I saw red.
I stood there, breathing hard, fists clenched at my sides. My entire body shook with the need to do something—punch a wall, scream, run after her and drag her out by the hair.
But I didn’t.
I forced myself to sit on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, head in my hands.
She thought this was a game. A slow seduction. A war of patience.
I belonged to someone.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. For a second, my heart jumped. Ariana?
But it was just my mother again.
Mom: She was just being polite. Don’t be cruel, Hardin.
I turned off the screen, staring at my reflection in the dark glass.
Cruel?
No.
Cruel was inviting yourself into someone’s life like a parasite.
Cruel was taunting the person you knew didn’t want you.
Cruel was manipulating my mother behind my back and then acting like I was the villain.
No—I wasn’t cruel.
But if Beatrice kept pushing… she might just see what I could be when I was backed into a corner.
I stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the estate. The world was quiet, peaceful—on the outside.
Inside, I was a storm ready to break.
And the eye of that storm?
Ariana.
She was my calm. My clarity. The only thing that kept me from turning into something I hated.
I pulled out my phone and opened her contact.
I didn’t even think. I just typed.
Me: You awake?
I stared at the screen, heart thudding.
The dots appeared.
Ariana: Yeah. Everything okay?
I closed my eyes, breathing easier already.
Me: It is now. Just needed to hear from you.
Ariana: I miss you too.
God, I needed her. More than I’d ever admit to anyone.
I stared out into the dark again, and I made myself a promise.
No matter what tricks Beatrice pulled, no matter how far she tried to wedge herself into my life—
She’d never win.
Because my heart was already taken.
And there wasn’t a single part of me left for her.
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