After (The After Series)

he mean that? “I mean it, look at you,” he continues, seeming to read my mind.
“You’ve been with so many girls,” I blurt out, and he frowns.
“None like you.” And I know I could take his answer many different ways,
but I choose to let it go.
“Do you have a condom?” I ask him, trying to remember the few things I
know about sex.
“A condom?” He chuckles. “I’m not going to have sex with you,” he says and
I begin to panic. Is this all a game to humiliate me?
“Oh,” is all I say and begin to pull myself up. But he grabs my shoulders and
gently pushes me back down. I’m sure I’m flush red, and I don’t want to be
exposed to his sarcastic eyes like this.
“Where are you going—” he starts, but then realization hits him. “Oh . . . No,
Tess, I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you have never done
anything . . . like at all, so I am not going to have sex with you.” He stares at me
for a moment. “Today,” he adds, and I feel a little bit of the pressure in my chest
dissolve.
“There are many other things I want to do to you first.” He climbs on top of
me, all of his weight supported on his hands. He is in a push-up position. His wet
hair drips water droplets onto my face and I squirm.
“I can’t believe no one has fucked you before,” he whispers and he shifts his
body to lie on his side once again. He brings his hand to my neck and trails it

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down, touching me only with his fingertips, down the valley of my breasts, down
my stomach until he stops just above my underwear. We are really doing this, me
and Hardin. What is he going to do? Will it hurt? A hundred thoughts race
through my mind but disappear as soon as his hand reaches into my panties. I
hear him suck a breath through his teeth and he brings his mouth to mine.
His fingers move a little, and it shocks me.
“Does that feel good?” he asks into my mouth.
He’s only rubbing me—how does it feel so good? I nod and he slows his
fingers down.
“Does it feel better than when you do it?”
What?
“Does it?” he asks again.
“Wh-what?” I manage, even though I have no control of my body or mind
right now.
“When you touch yourself? Does it feel like this?”
I’m not sure what to say, and when I just stare at him, something behind his
eyes snaps to. “Wait . . . you’ve never done that, either, have you?” His voice is
full of surprise and something else . . . lust? He goes back to kissing me and his
fingers keep moving up and down. “You’re so responsive to me, so wet,” he says
and I moan. Why are these filthy words so hot when Hardin says them? I feel a
gentle pinch and it sends a shock through my whole body.
“What? Was . . . that?” I half ask, half moan. He chuckles and doesn’t answer,
but I feel him do it again and my back arches off the grass. His mouth travels
down to my neck, then my chest. His tongue dips down under the cup of my bra
and his hand massages one of my breasts. I feel a pressure building in my
stomach—and it is pure bliss. I pinch my eyes closed and bite down on my lip;
my back lifts off the grass once again and my legs begin to shake.
“That’s right, Tessa, come for me,” he says, which makes me feel like I am
spiraling out of control. “Look at me, baby,” he purrs.
I open my eyes. The sight of his mouth nipping the skin on my chest sends me
over the edge and my vision goes white for a few seconds. “Hardin,” I say, and
then repeat, and I can tell by the way his cheeks flush that he loves it. Slowly, he
pulls his hand out and rests it on my stomach as I try to return my breathing to
normal. My body had never felt so energized before, and it’s never felt so
relaxed as this now.
“I’ll give you a minute to recover.” He laughs to himself and moves away
from me.
I frown. I want him to stay close, but I’m also strangely unable to speak. After
the best few minutes of my life, I sit up and look toward Hardin. He already has

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his jeans and shoes on.
“We’re leaving already?” The embarrassment is clear in my voice. I had
assumed he would want me to touch him, too; even if I don’t really know what
to do, he could explain it to me.
“Yeah, you wanted to stay longer?”
“I just thought . . . I don’t know. I thought maybe you would want
something . . .” I have no idea how to say this. Lucky for me he catches on.
“Oh, no. I am okay, for now,” he says and gives me a small smile. Is he going
to go back to being mean again? I hope not, not after this. I have just shared the
most intimate experience I have ever had with him. I won’t be able to stand it if
he treats me terribly again. He did say “for now,” so he wants something later? I
am already starting to regret this. I put my clothes on over my wet bra and
panties and try to ignore the soft wetness between my thighs. Hardin picks up his
wet shirt and hands it to me.
He takes in my confused expression and tells me “to towel off.” His eyes shift
to the apex of my thighs.
Oh. I unbutton my pants and he doesn’t bother to turn around as I swipe the
shirt across my sensitive skin there. I don’t miss the way his tongue brushes
across his bottom lip while he watches me. He pulls his cell phone from the
pocket of his jeans and his thumb slides across the screen repeatedly. I finish
doing what he recommended and hand him his shirt back. As I step into my
shoes, the air around us has changed from passionate to distant, and I find myself
wishing to be as far away from him as possible.
I wait for him to talk to me as we walk back to the car, but he doesn’t say
anything. My mind is already coming up with every possible worst-case scenario
for what happens next. He opens my door for me and I nod to thank him.
“Is something wrong?” he asks me while he drives back down the gravel road.
“I don’t know. Why are you being so weird now?” I ask him, even though I’m
afraid of his answer and can’t look directly at him.
“I’m not, you are.”
“No, you haven’t said a word to me since . . . you know.”
“Since I gave you your first orgasm?”
My mouth drops and my cheeks flush. Why am I still surprised by his dirty
mouth?
“Um, yeah. Since that, you haven’t said anything. You just got dressed and we
left.” Honesty seems to be the best option right now, so I add, “It makes me feel
like you’re using me or something”
“What? Of course I’m not using you. To use someone I would have to be
getting something out of it,” he says, so offhandedly that I can suddenly feel the

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tears coming. I do my best to keep them back but one escapes.
“Are you crying? What did I say?” He reaches over and puts his hand on my
thigh. To my surprise it soothes me. “I didn’t mean it like that—I am sorry. I’m
not used to whatever is supposed to happen after messing around with someone,
plus I wasn’t going to just drop you off at your room and go our separate ways. I
thought maybe we could get some dinner or something? I am sure you’re
starving.” He squeezes my thigh gently.
I smile back at him, relieved by his words. I wipe away the tear that escaped
prematurely and with it goes my worry.
I don’t know what it is about Hardin that makes me so emotional, in every
way possible. The idea of him using me makes me more upset than it should. My
feelings for Hardin are so confusing. I hate him one minute and want to kiss him
the next. He makes me feel things I never knew I could, and not just sexually. He
makes me laugh and cry, yell and scream, but most of all he makes me feel alive.

---

chapter twenty-six
H
ardin’s hand is still on my thigh and I hope he never removes it. I take a quick
opportunity to study some of the tattoos covering his arms. The infinity symbol
above his wrist catches my eye again, and I can’t help but wonder if it means
something to him. It feels personal, inked there, just above the bare skin on his
hand. I check his other wrist for a matching symbol but there isn’t one. The
infinity symbol is common enough, mostly among women, but the way the two
loops on the ends are hearts makes me even more curious.
“So what type of food do you like?” he asks.
What a refreshingly normal question for him to ask me. I pull my matted,
almost dry hair into a bun and think for a second about what I want to eat. “Well,
I like anything, really, as long as I know what it is—and it doesn’t involve
ketchup.”
He laughs. “You don’t like ketchup? Aren’t all Americans supposed to be wild
for the stuff?” he teases.
“I have no idea, but it’s disgusting.”
We both laugh and I look over at Hardin, who says, “Let’s just stick with a
plain diner then?”
I nod and he reaches to turn the music up but stops and puts his hand back on
me. “So what do you plan on doing after college?” he asks; it’s something he’s
already asked me before, in his room.
“I’m going to move to Seattle immediately, and I hope to work at a publishing
house or be a writer. I know it’s silly,” I say, suddenly embarrassed by my high

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ambitions. “But you already asked me that before, remember?”
“No, it’s not. I know someone over at Vance Publishing House; it’s a bit of a
drive, but maybe you should apply there for an internship. I could talk to him.”
“What? You would do that for me?” My voice goes high because I’m pretty
surprised; even if he has been nice for the last hour, this isn’t quite what I
expected.
“Yeah, it’s not a big deal.” He seems a little embarrassed. I am sure he isn’t
used to doing nice things.
“Wow, thank you. Really. I need to get a job or internship soon anyway, and
that would literally be a dream come true!” I clap my hands.
He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re welcome.”
We pull into a small parking lot next to an old brick building.
“The food here is amazing,” he says and climbs out of the car. Walking around
to the trunk, he opens it . . . and pulls out another plain-black T-shirt. He really
must have an endless supply. I was enjoying him being shirtless so much that I
forgot he would eventually have to put one back on.
When we get inside we seat ourselves in the fairly deserted place. An old
woman walks to the table and goes to hand us our menus, but he waves them off,
ordering a hamburger and fries, gesturing like I should do the same. I trust him
on this one and order it—minus ketchup, of course.
While we wait, I tell Hardin about growing up in Richland, which, being from
England, he’s never heard of. He isn’t missing out on much; the town is small
and everyone does the same things and no one ever leaves. Everyone except me:
I will never move back there. He doesn’t offer me much information about his
past, but I’m hopeful and patient. He seems very curious about my life as a child
and he frowns when I tell him about my dad’s drinking. I had mentioned it to
him before, while we were fighting, but this time I went into a little more detail.
During a pause in the conversation, the waitress reappears with our food,
which looks delicious.
“Good, huh?” Hardin asks as I take my first bite. I nod and wipe my mouth
off. The food is amazing and we both clear our plates, me being more hungry
than I’ve ever been before.
THE DRIVE BACK TO THE DORMS
is relaxed. His long fingers rub circles
on my leg, and I’m disappointed to see the WCU sign when we finally hit
campus and the student parking lot.
“Did you have a nice time?” I ask him. I feel so much closer to him now than
I did a few hours ago. He can be really good when he tries to be.

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“Yeah, I did, actually.” He seems surprised. “Listen, I would walk you to your
room, but I don’t want to play twenty questions with Steph . . .” He smiles and
turns his body sideways to face me.
“It’s fine. I’ll just see you tomorrow,” I tell him. I’m not sure if I should try to
kiss him goodbye or not, so I’m relieved when his fingers tug on a few loose
strands of my hair and tuck them behind my ear. I rest my face in his palm and
he leans over and touches his lips to mine. It starts as a simple and gentle kiss,
but I feel it warm my entire body and I need more. Hardin grabs my arm and
pulls it to gesture for me to climb over the middle divider. I quickly oblige and
straddle his lap, my back hitting the steering wheel. I feel the seat recline
slightly, giving us more room as I lift his shirt a little to slide my hands under it.
His stomach is hard and his skin is hot. I trace my fingers along the ink there.
His tongue massages mine and he wraps his arms around me tightly. The
feeling is almost painful, but it’s a pain I will gladly endure to be this close to
him. He moans into my mouth as I put my hands farther up his shirt. I love that I
can make him moan, too, that I have this effect on him. I’m really about to get
lost in the sensation again when we are interrupted by my phone ringing.
“Another alarm?” he teases as I pull back and reach into my purse.
Smiling, I open my mouth to say something smart back at him, but when I
look at the screen and see it’s Noah, I stop. Looking at Hardin, I can tell he’s
figured it out. His expression changes, and fearing that I’m losing him, this
mood, I hit the ignore button and toss my phone back onto the passenger seat. I
am not thinking about Noah right now. I push him to the back corner of my mind
and lock that door.
I lean back in to continue kissing Hardin, but he stops me.
“I think I better go.” His tone is clipped, and sends worry through me. When I
draw back to look at him, his gaze is distant and ice immediately replaces the
fire in my body.
“Hardin, I ignored it. I am going to talk to him about all this. I just don’t know
how or when—but it will be soon, though, I promise.” I knew somewhere in the
back of my mind that I would have to break up with Noah the moment I kissed
Hardin that first time. I can’t date him if I’ve already betrayed him. It would
always hang over my head like a dark cloud of guilt, and neither of us wants
that. The way I feel about Hardin is another reason I can’t be with Noah
anymore. I love Noah, but if I really loved him the way he deserves to be loved,
I wouldn’t be having these feelings for Hardin. I don’t want to hurt Noah, but
there is no turning back now.
“Talk to him about what?” he snaps.
“All of this.” I wave my hands around. “Us.”

---

“Us? You’re not trying to tell me you’re going to break up with him . . . for
me, are you?”
My head starts to spin. I know I should climb off his lap but I am frozen.
“You don’t . . . want me to?” My voice comes out as a whisper.
“No, why would you? I mean, yeah, if you want to dump him, go for it, but
don’t do it on my behalf.”
“I just . . . I thought . . .” I start to fumble my words.
“I already told you that I don’t date, Theresa,” he says.
My body wants to freeze like a deer in headlights; the only thing that makes it
possible for me to climb off him is the fact that I refuse to let him see me cry,
again.
“You’re disgusting,” I say bitterly and grab my stuff from the floorboards and
my phone from the seat. Hardin looks like he wants to say something, but he
doesn’t. “Stay away from me from now on—I mean it!” I shout, and he closes
his eyes.
I walk as fast as I can to my building, to my room, somehow managing to hold
in my tears until I get inside and shut the door. I am so grateful Steph’s gone as I
slide down the door and break into sobs. How could I be so stupid? I knew how
he was when I agreed to be alone with him, yet I practically jumped at the
opportunity. Just because he was nice to me today, I got it into my head that what
—that he would be my boyfriend? I laugh through my sobs at how stupid and
naïve I am. I really can’t even be angry with Hardin. He told me he doesn’t date,
but today we had such a nice time. He was actually pleasant and playful, and I
thought we were really building a relationship of some kind.
But it was all an act, just so he could get into my pants. And I let him.

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chapter twenty-seven
M
y tears dry, and I am showered and somewhat mentally stable by the time
Steph returns from the movies.
“So, how was your . . . hangout with Hardin?” she asks and grabs her pajamas
out of her dresser.
“It was okay, he was his normal . . . charming self,” I tell her and manage a
laugh. I want to tell her about what we did, but I’m too ashamed. I know she
wouldn’t judge me, and despite wanting to be able to tell someone, I also really
don’t want anyone to know.
Steph looks at me with concern evident in her eyes, and I have to look away.
“Just be careful, okay; you’re too nice for someone like Hardin.”
I want to hug her and cry into her shoulder but instead ask, “How was the
movie?” to change the subject. She tells me how Tristan kept feeding her
popcorn and that she is really starting to like him. I want to gag, but I know I am
just jealous because Tristan actually likes her in a way Hardin doesn’t like me.
But I remind myself that I do have someone who loves me and that I need to
start treating him better and stay away from Hardin—for real this time.
THE NEXT MORNING
I’m drained. I have no energy and feel like I could cry
at any moment. My eyes are red and puffy from crying last night, so I walk over
to Steph’s dresser and grab her makeup bag. I pull out brown eyeliner and draw a
thin line under my eyes and on my eyelid. It makes my eyes look much better. I
put a little powder under my eyes to give my skin a little color. A few swipes of

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mascara and I look like a new person. Pleased with the way I look, I put on my
tight jeans and a tank top. Still feeling naked, I grab a white cardigan out of my
closet. This is the most effort I have made in my appearance for a regular school
day since picture day my senior year of high school.
Landon texts me that we’ll have to meet in class, so when I stop by the
coffeehouse I grab him a drink, too. I’m still pretty early to class, so I walk
slower than usual.
“Hey, Tessa, right?” I hear a guy’s voice say. I look over and see a preppy boy
coming my way.
“Yeah, Logan, right?” I ask him, and he nods.
“You coming over again this weekend?” he asks. He must be part of the frat;
of course he is, he’s preppy and gorgeous.
“Oh, no, not this weekend.” I laugh and he joins in.
“Bummer, you were fun. Well, if you change your mind, you know where it
is. I gotta go, but I’ll see you around.” Giving me a fake little tip of the hat, he
walks away.
In class, Landon is already seated and thanks me repeatedly for bringing him
coffee. “You look different today,” he says as I sit down.
“I put makeup on,” I joke and he smiles. He doesn’t ask about my night with
Hardin and I am grateful. I’m not sure what I would say to him.
Just as the day gets pleasant, and I begin to stop thinking about Hardin, it’s
time for Literature.
HARDIN SITS IN HIS NORMAL SEAT
in the front. He’s wearing a white T-
shirt for once and it’s thin enough that his tattoos are visible underneath it. It
amazes me how attractive I find his tattoos and piercings when I’ve never cared
for either before. I look away quickly, sit down in my usual seat next to him, and
pull out my notes. I’m not giving up my great seat because of one rude boy. Still,
I hope Landon arrives soon so I won’t feel so alone with Hardin.
“Tess?” Hardin whispers as the class begins to fill up.