After (The After Series)

Had, my subconscious reminds me. I had everything planned until I met
Hardin and now my future is constantly changing and shifting.
“That bothers you, doesn’t it?” he asks, breaking my thoughts.
Hardin and I making love has tied an invisible string between us, uniting our
bodies and minds. The changes in my plans are for the better . . . right?
“No.” I try to hide the emotion in my voice, but it comes out heavy. “I just
have never heard anyone say flat-out they don’t want to get married. I thought
that’s what everyone wants—that’s the central point of life, right?”
“Not exactly. I think people just want to be happy. Think of Catherine; look
what marriage brought her and Heathcliff.”
I love that we speak the same narrative language. There is no one else who
would speak in this way to me, the way that I understand the best.

---

“They didn’t marry each other—that was the problem,” I say with a laugh. I
think back to the time when there had been so many parallels between my
relationship with Hardin, and Catherine’s with Heathcliff.
“Rochester and Jane?” he suggests. Hardin’s mention of Jane Eyre pleasantly
surprises me.
“You’re joking, right? He was cold and withholding. He also proposed to Jane
without telling her that he was already married to that madwoman he had locked
in the attic. You aren’t making very many valid points here,” I say.
“I know. I just love hearing you ramble about literary heroes.” He brushes the
hair off his forehead, and in a childish moment, I stick my tongue out at him.
“So what you’re saying is that you want to marry me? I can promise you that I
have no bat-crazy wife hidden in my house.” He takes a step toward me. There’s
no wife, sure, but it’s the other things he hides that worries me.
My heart is beating out of my chest as he closes the gap between us. “What?
No, of course not. I was just speaking in terms of all marriage. Not us
specifically.” I am naked and talking to Hardin about marriage. What the hell is
happening in my life?
“So you’re saying you wouldn’t?”
“No, I wouldn’t. Well, I don’t know—why are we even discussing this?” I
hide my face in his chest and feel him shake with amusement.
“I was just wondering. But now that you’ve presented me with a valid
argument, I may have to reconsider my no-marriage stance. You could make an
honest man out of me.”
He sounds serious, but there is no way he is. Right? Just as I begin to question
his sanity, he laughs and kisses my temple.
“Can we talk about something else?” I groan. Losing my virginity and talking
about marriage is way too much for my mushy brain.
“Sure. But I am not dropping the apartment thing; you have until tomorrow to
give me an answer. I won’t wait forever,” he says.
“How sweet.” I roll my eyes.
“You know me, Mr. Romantic,” he says and kisses my forehead. “Now, let’s
get a shower. You standing here naked makes me want to throw you on the bed
and fuck you all over again.”
I shake my head and pull out of his embrace before wrapping my robe around
my body. “Are you coming or what?” I say and grab my toiletry bag.
“I would love to come, but I guess a shower will have to do for now.” He
winks and I swat his arm as we walk into the hall.

---

chapter eighty
B
y the time we both take a shower and lie back in bed it’s almost four in the
morning.
“I have to be up in an hour,” I groan against his chest.
“You could sleep until seven thirty and still make it on time,” he reminds me.
Rushing my morning doesn’t sound very appealing, but I do need the sleep.
Thankfully, I took that nap, so I hopefully won’t be dead on my feet during my
first day of actually working at Vance.
“Mmm . . .” I mumble against his skin.
“I’ll fix your alarm,” he says and I drift off.
MY EYES ARE BURNING
from lack of sleep as I try to curl my unruly hair. I
line my watery eyes with brown eyeliner and put on my new ruby dress. The
neckline is square and just low enough to accentuate my bust without being
immodest. The hem ends just above my knees and the small brown belt across
my waist gives the illusion that I took longer to get ready than I actually did. I
consider putting on a little blush, but thanks to my night with Hardin, my cheeks
are still glowing. I slip into my new shoes and check myself out in the mirror.
The dress is quite flattering, and I look better than I deserve. I glance over at
Hardin wrapped in the blanket on my tiny bed, his feet dangling off the edge,
and I smile. I wait until the very last minute to wake him. I consider not waking
him at all, but I am selfish and want to kiss him goodbye.
“I have to leave,” I say and gently shake his shoulder.

---

“I love you,” he mumbles and puckers his lips without opening his eyes. “Are
you going to class?” I ask after I kiss him.
“Nope,” he says and rolls back over.
I place another kiss on his shoulder and grab my jacket and purse. I want to
crawl back in bed with him so badly. Maybe living with him wouldn’t be so bad;