After (After 1)

“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; we spend almost every night together anyway. I shake the thought from my head. It’s a bad idea; it’s too soon. Too soon.

Still, I spend the entire drive imagining getting an apartment with Hardin, picking out curtains and painting walls. By the time I hit the elevator at Vance, I’ve already picked out the shower curtain and bathmats, but when the elevator reaches the third floor a young man in a dark navy suit steps on and breaks my concentration.

“Hello,” he says and reaches for the elevator buttons. Seeing that the button for the top floor has already been pushed, he leans back against the wall of the elevator.

“Are you new here?” he asks. He smells like soap, and his eyes are a crispy blue, which is a strange contrast to his dark hair.

“I’m just an intern,” I tell him.

“Just an intern?” He laughs.

“I mean, I am an intern, not an actual employee,” I correct myself nervously.

“I started as an intern a few years ago and was hired on full-time. Do you go to WCU?”

“Yeah, did you?”

“Yep, just graduated last year. Glad that’s over with.” He chuckles. “You’ll like it here.”

“Thanks, I already love it,” I say as we step off the elevator.

As I go to turn the corner, he says, “I never caught your name.”

“Tessa, Tessa Young.”

He smiles and with a small goodbye wave says, “I’m Trevor. Nice to meet you, Tessa.”

The same woman from yesterday is at the desk and this time introduces herself as Kimberly. She smiles, wishes me good luck, and gestures toward a table full of food and coffee. I smile and thank her, grabbing a sprinkled donut and a cup of coffee before I head back to my office. On my desk I find a thick pile of paper with a note from Mr. Vance telling me to begin my first manuscript and good luck. I love the freedom of this internship—I can’t believe my luck. Digging into my donut, I pluck the note off the paper and get to work.

The manuscript is actually really good, and I can’t seem to put it down. I’m only a third of the way in when the phone on my desk rings.

“Hello?” I say, then realize I have no clue how to answer my own office phone. Wanting to sound more grown-up, I add, “I mean, Tessa Young’s office.” I bite my lip and hear a small laugh on the other end.

“Ms. Young, there is someone here to see you. Shall I send him in?” Kimberly asks.

“Tessa. Call me Tessa, please,” I tell her. It seems disrespectful to have her call me Ms. Young; she is far more experienced and older than me.

“Tessa,” she says, and I can picture her friendly smile. “Should I send him in?” she asks again.

“Oh yeah. Wait . . . who is it?”

“I’m not sure . . . young guy . . . um . . . he has tattoos, lots of tattoos,” she whispers and I laugh.

“Yeah, I will come out to get him,” I tell her and hang up.

That Hardin is here both thrills me and scares me. I hope everything is okay. When I walk out into the lobby he is standing with his hands in his pockets and Kimberly is on the phone. I get the feeling that she is only pretending to be on the phone, I can’t tell for sure. I hope that it doesn’t seem like I am taking advantage of the great opportunity Mr. Vance has given me by having visitors on my second day.

“Hey, is everything okay?” I approach him.

“Yeah, I just wanted to see how your first full day was going.” He smiles and rolls his eyebrow ring in his fingers.

“Oh. It’s great I—” I begin, but stop when Mr. Vance strides toward us.

“Well . . . well . . . well . . . Come to grovel for your job back?” He smiles wide at Hardin and pats him on the shoulder.

“You wish, you old wanker,” Hardin says, laughing, and my jaw drops. Mr. Vance chuckles and raises his fist before playfully nudging Hardin in his ribs. They must be closer than I thought.

“So what do I owe the honor? Or are you here to stalk my new intern?” He looks over at me.

“The second. Stalking interns is my favorite pastime.” I look back and forth between them, unsure what to say. I love seeing this playful side to Hardin; it doesn’t come out much.

“Do you have time to get some lunch, if you haven’t already?” Hardin asks me. My eyes dart to the clock on the wall; it’s already noon. The day has gone by quickly.

I look at Mr. Vance and he shrugs. “You have an hour each day for lunch. A girl’s got to eat!” He smiles and says goodbye to Hardin before disappearing down the hall.

“I texted you a few times to make sure you got here, but you didn’t answer,” Hardin tells me when we step onto the elevator.

“I haven’t looked at my phone, I got sucked into a story,” I tell him and I reach for his hand.

“You’re okay, right? We are okay?” he asks, his eyes locked into mine.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I . . . I don’t know . . . I was just getting worried because you weren’t answering me. I had thought . . . maybe you were starting to regret last night.” He looks down.

“What? Of course not. I honestly didn’t check my phone. I have no regrets from last night, not a single one.” I can’t hide my smile as the memories invade my thoughts.

“Good. Well, that’s a damn relief.” He lets out a breath.