After (The After Series)

Why is he bringing this up now? “Twice: we went to dinner and a movie, then
the bonfire. It wasn’t anything for you to worry about.”
“He only kissed you once?”
Ugh. “Yes, only once. Well, besides the time that . . . you saw. Now can we

---

move on from this? You don’t see me asking about Molly, do you?” I snap.
“Okay . . . okay. Let’s not fight. This is the longest we have ever gotten along,
so let’s not ruin it,” he says and reaches for my hand. His thumb rubs small
circles on my skin.
“Okay,” I say, still slightly annoyed. The image of Molly on his lap makes my
vision blur.
“Aww, come on, Tess. Don’t pout.” He laughs and pokes my side.
I can’t help but let out a giggle. “Don’t distract me! I’m driving!”
“This is probably the only time you’ll ever tell me not to touch you.”
“Not likely—don’t be so full of yourself.”
Our laughter blends together and it’s a lovely sound. He brings his hand to my
thigh and rubs his long fingers up and down.
“You sure?” his raspy voice whispers and my skin tingles. My body responds
to him so quickly, my pulse drumming heavily. I gulp and nod, causing him to
sigh and pull his hand away. “I know that’s not true . . . but I’d rather not have
you driving off the road, so I’ll just have to finger you later.”
I swat at him, blushing. “Hardin!”
“Sorry, baby.” He smiles, raising his hands in mock innocence and looking out
the window. I love when he calls me baby; no one has called me that before.
Noah and I had always thought that the ridiculous pet names people called each
other were too juvenile for us, but when Hardin calls me something, my blood
sings in my veins.
When we get back to his father’s house, Ken and Karen are in the backyard
waiting for us. Ken looks out of his element in jeans and a WCU T-shirt. I’ve
never seen him dressed so casually, and in fact he looks a little like Hardin this
way. They greet us with a smile that Hardin tries to return, but he looks
uncomfortable as he shifts on his heels and buries his hands in his pockets.
“Ready when you are,” Ken says to Hardin. He looks just as uncomfortable as
Hardin, though he’s more nervous, whereas Hardin seems apprehensive.
Hardin looks at me and I give him an encouraging nod, surprised that I have
suddenly become someone he looks at for reassurance. It seems that our
dynamic has changed dramatically, making me happy in a way I hadn’t
expected.
“We will be in the greenhouse, so just bring the soil in there,” Karen says and
gives Ken a small kiss on the cheek. Hardin looks away from them, and for a
second I think he may give me a kiss, too, but he doesn’t. I follow Karen to the
greenhouse and when we walk inside I gasp. It’s huge, bigger than it looks from
outside, and she wasn’t joking when she said it needs a lot of work. It is
practically empty.

---

Dramatically, she puts her hands on her hips with chipper glee. “It is quite the
project, but I think we can do it.”
“I think so, too,” I say.
Hardin and Ken come in, carrying two bags of soil each. They are both silent
as they drop them where Karen directs before walking back out. Twenty bags of
soil and hundreds of seeds and dozens of flowers and vegetable plants later, we
have a pretty good start.
BEFORE I REALIZE IT,
the sunlight has started to fade and I haven’t seen
Hardin in a few hours. I hope he and Ken are both still alive.
“I think we’ve done enough for today,” Karen says and wipes her face. We are
both covered in dirt.
“Yeah, I better check on Hardin,” I tell her and she laughs.
“It means a lot to us, Ken especially, that Hardin has been coming around
more, and I know we have you to thank for that. I take it that you two worked
out your differences?”
“Sort of . . . I guess we did.” I let out a little laugh. “We are still very
different.” If only she knew.
She gives me a knowing smile. “Well, different is sometimes what we need.
It’s good to be challenged.”
“Well, he is definitely challenging.”
We both laugh and she pulls me in for a hug. “You sweet girl, you have done
more for us than you know.” I feel my eyes tearing up and I nod.
“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve been staying overnight. Hardin has asked me
to stay again,” I tell her and try not to make eye contact.
“No, of course not. You both are adults, and I trust you’re being safe.”
Oh God. I know my cheeks are a deeper shade of red than the bulbs we just
planted. “We . . . uh . . . we don’t,” I stammer. Why am I talking about this with
Hardin’s soon-to-be stepmother? I am mortified.
“Oh,” she says, equally embarrassed. “Let’s go inside.”
I follow her into the house, where we both take our dirty shoes off at the door.
I can see into the living room, where Hardin is sitting on the edge of the couch
and Ken is in the easy chair. Hardin’s eyes immediately find mine and relief
flushes through them.
“I’ll make some late dinner while you get cleaned up,” Karen says.
Hardin stands up and walks over to me. He seems glad to be out of the room
with his father.
“We’ll be back down soon,” I say and follow Hardin up the stairs.

---

“How was it?” I ask as we enter his room.
Instead of answering me, he wraps his fingers around my ponytail and brings
his lips to mine. We stagger back against the door and he presses his body
against me. “I missed you.”
My insides liquefy. “You did?”
“Yes, I did. I just spent the last few hours with my father in awkward silence,
and then sharing a few even more awkward comments here and there. I need a
distraction.” He runs his tongue along my bottom lip and my breath catches in
my throat. This is different. Welcome, and very hot, but different.
His hands travel down my stomach and stop at the button on my jeans.
“Hardin, I need a shower. I am covered in dirt,” I say, laughing.
His tongue runs along my neck. “I like you this way, nice and dirty.” He gives
me that smile with those dimples.
But I gently push him back and grab my bag before heading to the bathroom.
My breathing is ragged and I’m a little disoriented, so when I try to close the
bathroom door only to have it stop midway, I’m confused. Until I look down and
I see Hardin’s boot.
“Can I join you?” He smiles and pushes his way into the bathroom before I
can answer.

---

chapter seventy-one
H
is fingers grip the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head, and he reaches
behind me to turn on the shower.
“We can’t just take a shower together! We’re at your father’s house, and
Landon and Dakota could be back anytime,” I say. The idea of seeing Hardin
completely naked under the shower makes me squirm but this is too much.
“Well, then I’m going to take a nice hot shower while you stand there and
overanalyze.” His pants drop to the floor, along with his boxers, and he steps
past me and into the water. The bare skin on his back is tight, pulled against the
muscles there. He faces me, his eyes moving up and down my covered body, the
way mine are on his naked one. The water covers him, making his tattooed skin
glisten. I don’t realize I’m staring until he closes the curtain abruptly, hiding his
perfect figure.
“Don’t you just love a hot shower after a long day?” His voice is muffled
somewhat by the sound of the water, but I can still catch its smugness.
“I wouldn’t know; some rude naked guy stole my shower,” I huff and hear
him chuckle.
“A sexy rude naked guy?” he teases. “Just come in before the hot water goes
away.”
“I . . .” I want to, but taking a shower with someone is just so intimate, too
intimate.
“Come on, live a little. It’s just a shower,” he says and opens the curtain.
“Please.” He reaches his hand out and my eyes scan his long, inked torso,

---

gleaming from the water sliding down his skin.
“Okay,” I whisper and undress while he watches every move I make. “Stop
staring,” I scold him and he pretends to be wounded, placing his hand over his
heart.
“Are you questioning my nobility?” He laughs and I nod slowly, trying to
fight my smile. “I am insulted.”
He reaches his hand out to help, and I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,
showering with someone. I try my best to cover myself with my arms as I wait
for him to move from under the water.
“Is it weird that I love how you’re still shy around me?” he says, unfolding my
arms, removing my shield. I stay quiet and he gently tugs my arms to bring me
more under the water, which he’s blocking with his body. His head dips down,
soaking my bare shoulder.
“I think it’s so appealing to me because you are so shy and innocent, yet you
let me do dirty things to you.” His breath feels hotter than the water against my
ear. I blink as his hands travel down my arms slowly. “And I know for a fact that
you like when I say dirty things to you.”
I gulp and he smiles against my neck. “See how your pulse quickens . . . I can
practically see it under your delicate skin.” He taps his index finger over the
pulse point in my neck. I have no idea how I am standing; my legs have turned
to mush, along with my brain.
His fingers running over my body make me stop worrying about the fact that
we aren’t alone in the house; they make me want to be reckless and let Hardin do
whatever he wants to me. When his long fingers wrap around my hips, I
involuntarily lean into him.
“I love you, Tessa. You believe me, don’t you?” he asks.
I nod, wondering why he is asking me this right now, after we have said it so
many times in the last twenty-four hours. “Yes, I believe you.” My voice is
hoarse and I clear my throat.
“Good. I have never loved anyone before.” He goes from playful to seductive
to serious so fast, I can barely keep up.
“Ever?” I think I already knew this, but it feels so different actually having
him say the words, especially when we are like this. I thought he would have his
head between my legs right now, not be expressing his feelings.
“No, never. Not even close,” he admits.
I wonder if he has ever had a girlfriend before—no, I don’t want to know if he
has. He told me he doesn’t date, so I’m going to stick with that.
“Oh,” is all I can say.
“Do you love me the way you loved Noah?” he asks.

---

A sound between a cough and a gasp comes out of my mouth, and I look away
from him. I grab the shampoo off the shelf. I haven’t even washed anything yet
and we have been in here several minutes already.
“Well?” he presses.
I don’t know how to answer that. It’s totally different with Hardin than it was
with Noah. I loved Noah, I think. I know I loved him, just not like this. Loving
Noah was comfortable and safe; it was always calm. Loving Hardin is raw and
exciting; it sparks my every nerve and I can’t get enough of him. I never want to
be away from him. Even when he drove me crazy, I missed him and had to fight
myself to stay away.
“I take that as a no,” he says and turns away from me, letting me have full
access to the water. I feel cramped in the tiny space and the air is too thin, too
clouded with steam from the hot water.
“It’s not the same.” How do I explain this to him without sounding insane?
His shoulders slack. I know if he was to face me he would be frowning. My
hands wrap around his waist and I press my lips against his back. “It’s not the
same, but not how you’re thinking that means,” I say. “I love you in a different
way. Noah was so comfortable to me he was almost like family. I felt like I was
supposed to love him but I really didn’t, not in the way I love you at least. It
wasn’t until I realized I loved you that I saw how different love was from what I
thought it was. I don’t know if that even makes sense.” A pang of guilt hits me
for saying I didn’t love Noah, but I think I knew that from the moment I kissed
Hardin for the first time.
“It does.” When he turns back around, his eyes are much softer. The lust, then
apprehension are gone, replaced by . . . love? Or relief . . . I can’t tell but he
leans down and kisses my forehead. “I just want to be the only person you ever
love; that way you are mine.”
How could he be such a jerk before and say these loving things to me now?
Despite the hint of possessiveness in his tone, his words are sweet and
surprisingly humble for him.
“In the ways that count, you are,” I promise him. He seems pleased with my
answer as his smile returns.
“Now, can you move so I can get this dirt off me before the water goes cold?”
I say and gently push him out of my way.
“I’ll do that for you.” He grabs the cloth and pours soap on it. I hold my
breath the entire time he gently scrubs the dirt off my body, and shiver as he
passes over the sensitive spots, his touch lingering on them.
“I would have you wash me, but I won’t be able to stop what would happen
after.” He winks at me and I blush. I want to find out what would happen after,

---

and I would love to touch every inch of his body. But Karen has probably
already finished cooking and might come looking for us soon.
I know the responsible thing to do would be to agree to leave the shower, but
it’s hard to concentrate on being responsible when he’s naked in front of me. I
reach for him, gripping his length in my palm, and he steps back against the
shower wall. He stares at me as I pump him slowly in my hand.
“Tess,” he groans, resting his head back against the tiled wall.
I keep my hand on him, willing him to groan again. I just love the noises he
makes. I glance down, admiring the way the water is spraying us, helping my
hand to glide easily over him.
“You make me feel so fucking good.”
His gaze on me makes me a little nervous, but the way his teeth are pressed
together and the way his eyelids flutter, it’s as if he’s trying to keep them open to
urge me to pleasure him further. My thumb rubs across the head of his penis and
he curses under his breath.
“I’m going to come now, already. Fuck.” His eyes close and I feel the warmth
of his release mix with the hot water, and I can’t help but stare until only the
water is left on my hand. Hardin leans over, out of breath, and presses a kiss to
my mouth.
“Amazing,” he whispers, kissing me again.
After I am dirt-free and feeling calm, yet wound up from Hardin’s touch, I dry
off quickly and put on my yoga pants and a T-shirt from my bag, then brush my
hair and pull it into a bun. Hardin wraps a towel around his waist and stands
behind me, watching me through the mirror. He looks so heavenly and godlike
and perfect and mine.
“Those pants are going to be distracting,” he says.
“Have you always been such a pervert?” I tease and he nods.
IT ISN’T UNTIL WE WALK
into the kitchen that I realize how we look, both
coming down with wet hair. It is obvious that we just showered together. Hardin
doesn’t seem to mind, but then, he has no manners.
“There are some sandwiches over on the counter,” Karen proclaims cheerily,
pointing near where Ken sits with a stack of folders in front of him. She doesn’t
seem to be surprised or mind our appearance; my mother would lose her mind if
she knew what I just did. Especially with someone like Hardin.
“Thank you so much,” I tell her.
“I had a nice time today, Tessa,” Karen says, and we start discussing the
greenhouse again while we each gather up a sandwich and sit down to eat.

---

Hardin eats in silence, glancing at me from time to time.
“Maybe we can do some more work next weekend,” I suggest, then catch
myself. “Never mind, the weekend after,” I say, laughing.
“Yes, of course.”
“Uh, is there a theme or something with the wedding?” Hardin interrupts.
Ken looks up from his work.
“Well, there isn’t really a theme, but we have chosen white and black for the
décor,” Karen says nervously. I’m sure this is the only discussion they’ve had
with Hardin about the wedding since he lost it when Ken told him about it.
“Oh. So what should I wear?” he asks casually. I want to reach over and kiss
him after seeing his father’s reaction.
“You’re coming?” Ken asks, clearly surprised but very happy.
“Yeah . . . I guess.” Hardin shrugs and takes another bite of his sandwich.
Karen and Ken smile at each other before Ken gets up and walks over to
Hardin. “Thank you, son, this means a lot to me.” He pats Hardin on the
shoulder. Hardin stiffens but rewards his father with a small smile.
“This is great news!” Karen says and claps her hands.
“It’s nothing,” Hardin grumbles. I move to sit next to him and put my hand
over his under the table. I never thought I could get him to agree to the wedding,
let alone actually talk about it in front of Ken and Karen.
“I love you,” I whisper in his ear when Karen and Ken aren’t paying attention.
He smiles and squeezes my hand. “I love you,” he whispers back.
“So, Hardin, how are your classes going?” Ken asks.
“Good.”
“I noticed you moved your classes around again.”
“Yeah, and?”
“You’re still majoring in English, right?” Ken goes on, unwittingly pressing
his luck; I can see that Hardin is getting annoyed.
“Yep.”
“That’s great! I remember when you were ten and you would recite passages
from The Great Gatsby all day, every day. I knew you were a literature whiz
then,” his father says.
“Do you? Do you remember that?” Hardin’s tone is harsh. I squeeze his hand,
trying to signal him to calm down.
“Yeah, of course I do,” Ken says calmly.
Hardin’s nostrils flare and he rolls his eyes. “I find that hard to believe since
you were constantly drunk, and, if I remember correctly, which I do, you tore
that book to pieces because I bumped your scotch and spilled it. So don’t try to
take a stroll down memory lane with me unless you know what the fuck you’re

---

talking about.” He stands up as Karen and I both gasp.
“Hardin!” Ken says as he leaves the room.
I scurry after him and hear Karen yelling at Ken. “You shouldn’t have gone
that far with him, Ken! He just agreed to come to our wedding. I thought we
agreed on baby steps! Then you go and say something like that. You should have
left it alone!”
Although she sounds mad, I can tell from the breaks in her voice that Karen is
really already crying.

---

chapter seventy-two
H
ardin slams his bedroom door as I reach the top of the stairs. I turn the knob,
half-expecting it to be locked, but it opens.
“Hardin, are you okay?” I ask, unsure what else to say.
He answers me by grabbing the lamp off the nightstand and slamming it
against the wall. The glass base shatters from the impact. I jump back and a
small shriek comes out against my will. He paces over to the desk, grabs the
small keyboard, and rips it out of the desktop computer, tossing it behind him.
“Hardin, please stop!” I yell.
He doesn’t look at me, but knocks the monitor to the ground and starts yelling,
“Why? Why, Tessa? It’s not like he can’t afford to buy a new fucking
computer!”
“You’re right,” I say and step on top of the keyboard, crushing it further.
“What? What are you doing?” he asks as I pick it up and drop it back on the
ground. I’m not really sure what I am doing but the keyboard’s already broken,
and this seems like the best idea at the moment.
“I’m helping you,” I tell him, and confusion flashes in his angry eyes before
humor takes over. I pick up the monitor and throw it against the floor. He walks
over with a small smile on his lips as I pick it up again, but his hands stop mine
and he takes the monitor out of my hands and sits it on the desk.
“You’re not mad at me for yelling at my dad like that?” he asks, and cups my
cheeks, his thumbs gently caressing them as his green eyes bore into mine.
“No, you have every right to express yourself. I would never be mad about

---

that.” He just had a fight with his dad but he is worried about me being mad at
him? “Unless of course you’re being mean for no reason, which in this case you
weren’t.”
“Wow . . .” he says.
But the small gap between our lips is too tempting. I lean forward and press
mine against his, and he immediately opens his mouth, deepening the kiss. My
fingers twist into his hair and he groans as I put more force into it. His anger
rolls off him like a tidal wave. I push him back a little and he turns me around so
the bottom of my back hits the desk. His hands attach to my hips and he lifts me
onto the desk. I am his distraction. The thought of me being what Hardin needs
makes me feel needed in a way I wasn’t aware of. I feel more solid now, more
necessary in his life, and my head tilts back as he continues to push his tongue
against mine, standing between my legs.
“Closer,” he moans into my mouth. His hands grip the back of my knees and
he pulls me to the edge. My hands tug at his jeans and he pulls his mouth away
from mine.
“What . . .?” He raises an eyebrow at me. He must think I am insane, coming
in here and helping him break things, and now trying to undress him. And maybe
I am. I don’t care at the moment. All I care about is the way the curve of
Hardin’s collarbones are shadowed by the moonlight coming through the bay
window, the way one of his hands is holding my face like I am fragile, despite
him trying to break everything in the room minutes ago.
I answer him wordlessly by wrapping my legs around him and pulling him
closer.
“I really thought you were going to storm in here and tell me off.” He smiles
and presses his forehead against mine.
“You were wrong,” I remind him with a smug smile.
“Very. I don’t want to go back down there tonight,” he says, eyes searching
mine.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to.”
He relaxes and moves his head to the crook of my neck. I’m surprised by how
easy this is between us. I had expected him to snap at me, maybe even try to
make me leave when I came in here, but here he is leaning on me. I can tell he is
really trying to navigate this relationship the best he can, despite the fact that he
is one giant mood swing.
“I love you,” I tell him, and feel his lip ring move against my neck as he
smiles.
“I love you,” he replies.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, but he shakes his head, still buried in

---

my neck. “Okay, do you want to watch a movie? Something funny, maybe?” I
suggest.
After a long pause, he looks back toward the bed. “Did you bring your
laptop?” When I nod he continues. “Let’s watch The Vow again.”
I laugh. “You mean the movie that you supposedly despise?”
“Yes . . . well, despise is a little harsh. I just think it’s a sappy, mediocre love
story,” he corrects.
“Then why do you want to watch it?”
“Because I want to watch you watch it,” he answers thoughtfully.
Remembering the way he watched me the entire time we watched it in my
room, that night seems so long ago. I had no clue what was coming up between
us. I would have never imagined we would come to this.
My smile is all the answer he needs as he grabs my waist and carries me to the
bed.
Within minutes, he is snuggled up next to me studying my face as I watch the
movie. Halfway through I feel my eyes getting heavy.
“I’m getting sleepy,” I say with a yawn.
“They both die; you’re not missing much.”
I nudge him with my elbow. “You have issues.”
“And you’re adorable when you’re sleepy.” He closes my laptop and pulls me
up to the top of the bed with him.
“And you’re uncharacteristically nice when I’m sleepy,” I say.
“No, I’m nice because I love you,” he whispers and I swoon. “Sleep,
beautiful.”
He gives me a small peck on my forehead, and I am too tired to try for more.
THE NEXT MORNING,
the light is bright, too bright. When I roll over to bury
my head in Hardin’s shoulder, he sighs in his sleep and pulls me closer. When I
wake up again, he is awake and staring at the ceiling. His eyes are hooded and
his expression unreadable.
“You okay?” I ask, nuzzling farther into him.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answers, but I can tell he is lying.
“Hardin, if there is something wrong . . .” I begin.
“There isn’t, I’m fine.” I decide to let it go. We have gotten along all weekend;
it’s a record for us. I don’t want to ruin it. I lift my head up and place a single
kiss on his jaw and his arms wrap tighter around me.
“I have a few things to do today, so whenever you’re ready, can you drop me
off at my house?” he asks. My stomach drops, hearing the distance in his voice.

---

“Sure,” I mumble and move out of his embrace. He tries to grab my wrist but I
move too quickly. Grabbing my bag, I head to the bathroom to change and brush
my teeth. We have been in our own little bubble all weekend, and I fear that
without the protection of these walls, he won’t be the same.
I’m relieved when I don’t run into Landon or Dakota in the hallway, and even
more relieved that Hardin is fully dressed when I return. I want to get this over
with. He has cleaned the glass off the floor and the keyboard is in the trash can,
the lamp and monitor neatly piled nearby.
Downstairs, I say goodbye to Ken and Karen, though Hardin walks outside
without saying a word to either of them. I assure them that Hardin will still be at
the wedding, despite the drama last night. I tell them about the computer and
lamp, but they don’t seem to pay it much mind.
“Are you mad or something?” Hardin asks after ten minutes of silence.
“No.” It’s not that I’m mad, I am just . . . nervous, I suppose. I can feel the
shift between us and I wasn’t expecting anything to change from how we were
all weekend.
“It seems like it.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“You need to tell me if you are.”
“You’re just being distant and now you’re having me drop you off at your
house, and I thought everything was fine between us,” I say.
“You’re upset because I have things to do today?” When he says it like that, I
realize how ridiculous and obsessive I sound. Is that why I am upset? Because he