After (The After Series)

Oh God, what if Landon sees him? I will be humiliated. I need to find Landon
first thing in the morning to explain the turn of events. But, really, what am I
going to say? It’s not what it looked like. We were just talking and then I agreed
to stay the night, and somehow I ended up in my panties and a T-shirt, and then
gave him the closest thing to a hand job that I know of? That sounds terrible.
I lay my head onto the pillows and stare at the ceiling. I consider getting up
and checking my phone but decide against it. The last thing I need right now is

---

to read texts from Noah. He is probably panicking, but, honestly, as long as he
doesn’t tell my mother, I don’t care as much as I should. If I’m completely
honest with myself, I haven’t felt the same about Noah since I kissed Hardin for
the first time.
I know I love Noah; I have always loved Noah. But I’m beginning to question
whether I really love him as a boyfriend and someone I could spend my life
with, or if I love him because he has always been such a stable person in my life.
He’s always been there for me—and on paper we’re perfect for each other—but
I can’t ignore the way I feel when I’m with Hardin. I’ve never had these types of
feelings before. Not just when we’re on top of each other, but the way he gives
me butterflies just by looking at me, the way I find myself desperately wanting
to see him even when I’m fuming mad at him, and, mostly, the way he always
invades my thoughts even when I try to convince myself that I hate him.
Hardin has gotten under my skin no matter how hard I try to deny it. I’m in his
bed instead of with Noah. On cue, the door opens and I am snapped from my
thoughts. I look up and see Hardin in the clean plaid boxers and giggle. They are
a little too big, and much longer than his briefs, but they still look great.
“I like them.” I smile and he glares at me before turning out the light and
switching on the television. He climbs back onto the bed and lies down close to
me.
“So, what were you going to tell me?” he asks, and I cringe. I was hoping he
wouldn’t bring it up again.
“Don’t be shy now, you’ve just made me come in my boxers,” he jokes and
then pulls me closer to him. I bury my head in the pillow, and he laughs.
I pull my head up and Hardin tucks my hair behind my ear before giving me a
soft kiss on my lips. It’s the first time he has kissed me that tenderly, and yet it
feels more intimate than when we kiss with tongue. He lays his head back on the
pillow and changes the channel. I want him to hold me until I fall asleep, but I
get the feeling Hardin is not a cuddling type of guy.
I want to be good for you, Tess. Hardin’s words from earlier tonight play in
my head and I wonder if he meant them or if he was just really drunk.
“Are you still drunk?” I ask and lay my head on his chest. His body stills but
he doesn’t push me off.
“No, I think our little screaming match in the yard sobered me up,” he says.
One of his hands is holding the remote and the other is hanging in the air
awkwardly as if he doesn’t know what to do with it.
“Oh, well, at least something good came out of it.”
He turns his head and looks down at me. “Yeah, I guess so,” he says, and
finally puts his hand on my back. It’s an amazing feeling having him hold me.

---

No matter what terrible thing he says to me tomorrow, he can’t take this moment
away from me. This is my new favorite place to be, my head on his chest and his
arm on my back.
“I think I actually like drunk Hardin better.” I yawn.
“Is that so?” he says and turns to look at me again.
“Maybe,” I tease and close my eyes.
“You’re terrible at distractions; now, tell me.”
I might as well just tell him. I know he isn’t going to drop it.
“Well, I was just thinking of all the girls you’ve . . . you know, done things
with.” I try to hide my face in his chest, but he drops the remote on the bed and
tilts my chin up to look at him.
“Why were you thinking about that?”
“I don’t know . . . because I have literally no experience and you have a lot.
Steph included,” I answer. The image of the two of them together makes me
nauseous.
“Are you jealous, Tess?” His voice is full of humor.
“No, of course not,” I lie.
“So you don’t mind if I tell you a few details, then?”
“No! Please don’t!” I beg, and he chuckles and wraps his arm a little tighter
around me.
He doesn’t say anything else about it, and I could not be more relieved. I
couldn’t bear to hear the details of his flings. I feel my eyes getting heavier and
try to focus on the television. I am so comfortable lying here in his arms.
“You’re not going to sleep, are you? It’s still early,” he says, barely breaking
through my haze.
“Is it?” It feels like it has to be at least two in the morning. I arrived here
around nine.
“Yeah, it’s only midnight.”
“That isn’t early.” I yawn again.
“To me it is. Plus, I want to return the favor.”