After (After 1)

“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.