After (The After Series)

“In love with?” she scoffs. “Oh Theresa, my naïve Theresa, you have no idea
what love is.” She laughs, making a sound that is more like a sickening cackle.
“And you think he loves you?”
“I do love her,” Hardin interrupts.
“Sure you do!” Her head falls back.
“Mother.”
“Theresa, I’m warning you: If you don’t stop seeing him, there will be
consequences. I’m leaving now, but I expect a call after you clear your head.”
She storms out of my room, and I go into the doorway to watch her as she
stomps away, her heels clunking and echoing down the hall.
“I am so sorry.” I turn to Hardin.
“You have nothing to apologize for.” He takes my face in his hands. “I am
proud of the way you stood up for yourself.” He kisses my nose. I look around
the room and wonder just how everything came to this. I lean into Hardin’s chest
and he reaches around me, rubbing the tense muscles on my neck.
“I can’t believe her, I can’t believe she would act like that and threaten not to
help pay for my college. She doesn’t pay for all of it—I have a partial
scholarship and some student loans. She only pays twenty percent; the biggest
thing is the dorms. But what if she really stops paying for them? I will have to
find a job on top of the internship,” I sob. His hand moves to the back of my
head and gently guides my head down to cry on his chest.
“Shh . . . Shh . . . It’s okay, we will figure it out. You can move in with me,”
he says. I laugh and wipe my eyes, but he goes on, “Really, you could. Or we
could get an apartment off campus. I have enough money.”
I look up at him. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“We can’t move in together.” I laugh and sniffle.
“Why not?”
“Because we have only known each other for a few months, and most of that
time was spent fighting,” I remind him.
“So, we have done a pretty good job getting along this weekend.” He smiles
and we both burst into laughter.
“You’re insane. I am not moving in with you,” I tell him and he hugs me
again.
“Just think about it—I want to move out of the frat house anyway. I don’t

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really fit in there, in case you didn’t notice,” he says and laughs. It’s true, his
small group of friends are the only ones who don’t wear polo shirts and khakis
every day. “I only joined to piss my father off, but it didn’t work as well as I had
hoped.”
“You could just get an apartment on your own if you dislike the house,” I say.
There is no way I am moving in with him this soon.
“Yeah, but that wouldn’t be as fun.” He grins and wiggles his brows at me.
“We could still have fun,” I tease.
His wicked smile grows and he brings both hands down to my bottom and
squeezes.
“Hardin!” I scold him playfully.
The door opens and my breathing stops. Flashbacks of my mother’s anger fill
my vision, and I’m afraid she’s come back for round two.
So I’m relieved when it’s Steph and Tristan who walk into the room.
“Guess I missed something grand. Your mom just flipped me off in the
parking lot,” Steph says, and I can’t help but laugh.

---

chapter seventy-five
H
ardin ends up staying the night in my room after Steph goes to Tristan’s
apartment with him. The rest of the night we spend talking and kissing before
Hardin finally falls asleep with his head on my lap. I dream of a time and place
where we could actually live together. I would love to wake up every morning to
find Hardin next to me, but it’s not realistic. I’m too young, and that’s moving
too fast.
Monday morning, my alarm goes off ten minutes late, throwing my whole
morning off. After I shower and do my makeup quickly, I wake Hardin before
plugging in my blow dryer.
“What time is it?” he groans.
“It’s six thirty. I have to blow-dry my hair.”
“Six thirty? You don’t have to be there until nine; come back to bed.”
“No, I still have to do my hair and get coffee. I have to leave here by seven
thirty; the drive is forty-five minutes.”
“You’d be there forty-five minutes early; you should leave at eight.” He closes
his eyes and rolls back over.
I ignore him and turn on my blow dryer; he takes a pillow and covers his head
with it. After curling my hair, I go over my planner again to make sure I didn’t
miss anything.
“Are you going to just go to class from here?” I ask Hardin as I get dressed.
“Yeah, probably.” He smiles and crawls out of bed. “Can I use your
toothbrush?”

---

“Uh, I guess . . . I’ll just buy a new one on my way back.” No one has ever
asked to use my toothbrush before. I mentally picture myself putting it in my
mouth after he uses it, but nothing good comes of that.
“I still say you shouldn’t leave until eight; think of the things we could do in
thirty minutes,” he says, and I look over at him and his tempting dimples, and
notice the way his eyes travel up and down my body. My own eyes travel to the
bulge in his boxers and my body immediately heats. My fingers stop on the
middle button of my shirt as he lazily crosses the small room to stand behind me.
I gesture for him to zip my skirt, and he complies, but his hands brush my bare
skin delicately as he does so.
“I have to. I still have to get some coffee,” I say frantically. “What if there is
traffic? An accident? I could blow a tire or need gas. I could get lost, or not be
able to find somewhere to park. What if I have to park in the very back and then
I have to walk a long way and I will be out of breath, so I will need a few
minutes to—”
“You need to calm down, baby. You’re a nervous wreck.” He sends a little
breath across my ear. I look at him in the mirror. He looks so perfect when he
wakes up, his sleepiness making him look softer.
“I can’t help it; this internship means so much to me. I can’t take the chance of
messing it up.” My mind is racing. I will be fine after today, after I know what to
expect and can plan my week accordingly.
“You don’t want to show up there nervous like this; they will eat you alive.”
He places a string of small kisses down my neck.
“I will be fine.” I hope. Goose bumps cover my skin from his warm breath
against my neck.
“Let me relax you first.” His voice is low and seductive, laced with sleep.
“I . . .”
He trails his fingers over my collarbone and down to my chest. His eyes meet
mine in the mirror and I sigh in defeat. “Five minutes?” I ask and beg at the
same time.
“That’s all I need.”
I move to turn around, but he stops me. “No, I want you to watch,” he purrs in
my ear. I feel the familiar twinge between my legs from his words. I gulp and he
moves my hair over my left shoulder and pushes his body against mine. His
hand travels down to the hem of my long skirt.
“At least you aren’t wearing tights today. I must say I am a fan of this skirt.”
He pulls it up to my waist. “Especially when it’s like this.”
My eyes are glued to his hands in the mirror and my pulse is thrumming. His
fingers are slightly cold as they slip into my panties; the contact makes me jump

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slightly and he chuckles into my neck. His other hand is wrapped around my
chest, holding me in place. I feel so exposed, but so turned on at the same time.
Watching him touch me takes my mind places that I never knew existed. His
fingers move slowly inside me and he kisses my neck softly.
“Look how beautiful you are,” he whispers against my skin. I look at myself
in the mirror and barely recognize the girl before me. My cheeks are flushed a
deep red; my eyes are wide and wild. With my skirt bunched up at my hips and
Hardin’s fingers moving inside me, I look different . . . sexy, even.
My eyes close as I feel my stomach tightening. Hardin continues his
beautifully slow assault and I pull my bottom lip between my teeth to stifle a
moan.
“Open your eyes,” he instructs. My eyes meet his and it sends me over the
edge—Hardin standing behind me, holding me, watching me come undone from
his touch is all it takes. My head rolls back on his shoulder and my legs start to
shake.
“That’s it, baby,” he coos and tightens his grip around me, holding me up as
my vision blurs and I moan his name.
When my eyes open again, Hardin kisses my temple and tucks a curl behind
my ear before tugging my skirt back down my thighs. I turn around to face him
and check the clock. It’s only seven thirty-five.