After (The After Series)

Ha, like she would ever let that happen, my subconscious points out.
As if he heard my thoughts, Hardin shoots me an annoyed look. When I
approach him he turns away from me.
“Hardin . . .”
“No, Tessa, don’t,” he says sharply. “I know you’re going to say that I need to
go back in there and apologize to them. But there is no way in hell that is
happening, so don’t waste your breath! Why don’t you just go back in there and
enjoy your dinner and leave me the hell alone.”
I take a step closer, but all I can manage to say is “I don’t want to go back in
there.”
“Why not? You fit in perfectly with their prudish and boring personalities.”
Ouch! Why am I here again? Oh, yeah, that’s right: to be Hardin’s punching
bag.
“You know what? Fine! I will leave—I don’t know why I just can’t stop trying
with you!” I shout, but hope they can’t hear me inside.
“Because you just can’t take a hint, I guess.” As the words leave his mouth, I

---

feel the lump growing in my throat.
“The hint is well-taken.” I stare at the stone patio and try to swallow the sting
from his words, but it’s impossible. When I look up at Hardin, his cold eyes meet
mine.
“That’s it? That’s your defense?” He laughs and rakes his hands through his
hair.
“You don’t deserve any more of my time. You don’t deserve for me to even
speak to you, or those nice people in there to spend their time setting up this
dinner to have you ruin it! That’s what you do: ruin things, everything! And I am
done being one of those things.” My tears soak my face as Hardin steps toward
me. I back away, my feet tripping on something. Hardin reaches out to steady
me, but I grab hold of a patio chair instead. I don’t want or need his help.
Looking up, I see that his expression is one of exhaustion. His voice is, too,
when he says softly, “You’re right.”
“I know I am.” I turn away from him.
Faster than I could have imagined, he snakes his fingers around my wrist and
pulls me to his chest. I lean into him without hesitation, wanting to touch him so
badly. But I know better: I can hear the warning in the thump of my heart, rapid
beneath my chest. I wonder if Hardin can hear it, too, or feel the pounding of my
pulse under his grip. His eyes are full of anger and I know mine mirror his.
I have no warning before he crashes his lips down on mine, the force of his
mouth almost painful. His action is so full of desperation and hunger that I am
lost. Lost in Hardin. Lost in the salty taste of my tears on both our lips, lost in his
fingers threaded through my hair. His hands move from my head to my waist
and he lifts me onto the railing. My legs part for him and he moves between
them, never losing contact with my mouth. We are all heat and gasps, tangled in
each other. My teeth graze over his bottom lip, causing him to groan and pull me
even closer.
The back door creaks open, breaking the spell. Turning to look, I am horrified
as Landon’s soft eyes meet mine. His face is red, and his eyes wide. I push
Hardin away from me and jump down from the rail, adjusting my dress as my
feet hit the deck.
“Landon, I . . .” I begin.
He holds up his hand to silence me and steps toward us. Hardin’s breathing is
so loud that I swear it echoes between the house and the trees. His cheeks are
flamed, his eyes wild.
“I don’t understand. I thought you guys hated each other, and here you are . . .
You have a boyfriend, Tessa, I didn’t think you were like that.” Landon’s words
are harsh but his tone is soft.

---

“I’m not . . . I don’t know what this is.” I motion between me and Hardin.
Hardin stays silent, for which I am glad. “Noah knows, well, about before. I was
going to tell you, I just don’t want you to think differently of me,” I say, almost
apologetically.
“I don’t know what to think . . .” Landon says and walks back toward the
door.
Then, like something out of a movie, a clash of thunder rolls through the air.
“It looks like it might storm,” Hardin says, his eyes scanning the darkening
sky. Despite his flushed appearance, his voice is calm.
“A storm? Landon just caught us . . . kissing,” I say, feeling the fire slowly
burning out between us.
“He’ll be okay.”
I look up at him, expecting to see a smug expression, but it’s not there. He
puts his hand on my back and rubs gently.
“Do you want to go back inside or do you want me to take you home?” he
asks.
It’s astounding how abruptly his mood can change from angry to lustful to
calm.
“I would like to go back inside and finish dinner. What do you want to do?”
“I suppose we can go back in; the food is pretty good,” he says, smiling, and I
giggle. “That’s a lovely sound,” he tells me and I meet his gaze.
“You’re in a much better mood,” I say and he smiles again.
He rubs the back of his neck like he always does. “I don’t understand it,
either.”
So he is just as confused as I am? I wish my feelings for him weren’t so
strong; then I could deal with him much better. When he says things like this it
makes me care for him that much more. I only wish he could feel the same, but I
have been warned by Steph and Hardin himself that it will never happen.
Thunder rolls again and Hardin takes my hand. “Let’s go inside before it
rains.”
I nod and he leads me inside. He doesn’t remove his hand from mine as we
walk back into the dining room. Landon’s eyes dart down to note this, but he
says nothing. As much as I don’t want Landon to see it, I love the way Hardin’s
hand feels over mine. I love it too much to pull away. Landon focuses back on
his plate as we retake our seats. Letting go of my hand, Hardin looks up at his
father and Karen.
“I am sorry for yelling at you that way,” he mutters.
The surprise on everyone’s face is evident and Hardin looks down at the table.
“I hope I didn’t ruin the dinner that you put so much effort into,” he continues.

---

I can’t help myself. I reach under the table and put my hand over Hardin’s,
giving it a light squeeze.
“It’s okay, Hardin, we understand. Let’s not let the night be ruined; we can
still enjoy the dinner.” Karen smiles and Hardin looks at her. He gives her a
small smile, which I know takes a lot of effort from him. Ken doesn’t say
anything, but he nods in agreement with the sentiment.
I slowly pull my hand away, but Hardin laces his fingers through mine and
looks sideways at me. I hope I don’t wear the giddy expression I feel inside. For
what seems like the first time in my life, I don’t overthink things, like why I am
holding his hand when I’m dating Noah.
Dinner continues well, but I find myself a little intimidated by Ken now that I
know he’s the chancellor. That is a huge deal. He tells us about when he moved
from England, and how he loves America, and the state of Washington in