After (The After Series)

Hardin, adorable?
“I can’t!” I am not sure what is stopping me; the water is deep enough to jump
in, but not too deep. The water in the spot where Hardin is standing goes only to
his chest, which means it would reach just under my chin.
“Are you afraid?” His tone is calm but serious.
“No . . . I don’t know. Sort of,” I admit and he walks through the water toward
me.
“Sit on the edge and I’ll help you in.”
I sit down and close my legs tightly so he doesn’t see my panties. Noticing
this, he grins as he reaches me. His hands grip my thighs and once again I am on
fire. Why does my body have to respond to him this way? I’m trying to make us
friends, so I need to ignore the fire. He moves his hands to my waist and asks,
“Ready?”
As soon as I nod yes, he is lifting me and pulling me into the water, water
that’s warm and feels amazing against my hot skin. Hardin lets me go too soon
and I stand up in the water. We are closer to the bank so it only reaches just
below my chest.
“Don’t just stand there,” he says mockingly, and I ignore him but do walk out
a little. The T-shirt bubbles up from the water going under it and I yelp and pull
it down. Once it’s positioned, it promises to stay put for the most part.
“You could just take it off,” he says with a smirk and I splash at him. “Did you
just splash me?” He laughs and I nod, splashing at him again. He shakes his wet
head and lunges for me under the water. His long arms hook around my waist
and pull me under. My hand flies up to plug my nose; I haven’t mastered
swimming without my nose plugged. When we emerge, Hardin is cracking up,
and I can’t help but laugh with him. I am actually having fun, real fun, not that
average watching-a-good-movie fun.

---

“I can’t decide which is more amusing: the fact that you are actually having a
good time or the fact that you have to plug your nose underwater,” he says
through his laughter.
I get a jolt of bravery and move toward him, ignoring the way the T-shirt
floats up again, and I try to push his head underwater. Of course, he is too strong
for me and doesn’t budge, so he only laughs harder, showing all of his beautiful
white teeth. Why can’t he be like this all the time?
“I believe you owe me an answer to a question,” I remind him.
He looks off toward the bank. “Sure, but only one.”
I’m not sure which one to ask, I have so many. Before I can decide, though, I
hear my voice making the decision for me: “Who do you love the most in the
world?”
Why would I ask him that? I want to know more specific things, like why is he
a jerk? Why is he in America?
He looks at me suspiciously, as if he is confused by my question.
“Myself,” he answers, and goes back underwater for a few seconds.
He pops back up and I shake my head. “That can’t be true,” I say in challenge.
I know he is arrogant but he has to love someone . . . anyone? “What about your
parents?” I ask and immediately regret it.
His face twists and his eyes lose the softness I was becoming fond of. “Do not
speak of my parents again, got it?” he snaps, and I want to smack myself for
ruining the good time we were having.
“I’m sorry, I was just curious. You said you would answer a question,” I
remind him quietly. His face softens a little and he steps toward me, the water
around us rippling. “I really am sorry, Hardin, I won’t mention them again,” I
promise. I really don’t want to fight with him out here; he would probably leave
me out here alone if I upset him too much.
He takes me by surprise when he grabs my waist and lifts me into the air. I
kick my legs and flail my arms, screaming at him to put me down, but he only
obliges me by laughing and tossing me into the water. I land a few feet away and
when I come above water his eyes are bright with glee.
“You’re going to pay for that!” I yell. He fake-yawns in response, so I swim at
him, and he grabs me again—but this time I wrap my thighs around his waist
without really realizing it. A shocked gasp falls from his lips.
“Sorry,” I mutter and unhook my legs.
But he grabs them and folds them back around his waist. That electricity
between us can be felt again, this time more intensely than ever before. Why