After We Collided (After 2)

“Did you touch him? Oh my fucking God! Did he touch you?” I’m frantic and I don’t give a shit. I can’t handle this; if he touched her I couldn’t stand it, I wouldn’t be able to.

I turn to Zed before either of them can answer. “If you touched her at all, I swear to fucking God I don’t give a shit if she’s here or not, I’ll—”

She steps between us again, and I see fear in her eyes.

“Get out of my apartment now or I’m calling the police,” Zed threatens me.

“The police? You think I give a flying—”

“I’ll go.” Tessa’s voice is soft in the middle of the chaos.

“What?” Zed and I say in unison.

“I’ll go with you, Hardin, only because I know you won’t leave unless I do.”

And I feel relief. Well, a little. I don’t give a fuck why she’s coming, only that she is.

Zed turns to her, almost pleading. “Tessa, you don’t have to go; I can call the cops. You don’t have to leave with him. This is what he does, he controls you by frightening you and everyone around you.”

“You’re not wrong . . .” She sighs. “But I’m exhausted, and it’s five in the morning, and we do have stuff to talk about, so this is the easiest way.”

“It doesn’t have to—”

“She’s coming with me,” I tell him, and Tessa shoots me a glare that would surely kill me dead if it could.

“Zed, let me just call you tomorrow. I’m so sorry that he came here,” she tells him softly, and at last he nods, finally understanding that I’ve won. He’s fucking sulking, and she better not fall for it.

Actually, I’m really surprised she’s agreeing to come with me so easily . . . but she does know me better than anyone else, so she was right when she said I wouldn’t leave until she came with me.

“Don’t apologize. Be careful, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate for a moment to call me,” he says to her.

It must suck to be a little bitch and not be able to do shit about me showing up at his apartment in the middle of the night and taking Tessa with me.

Tessa doesn’t speak a word as she walks out of his bedroom and stalks to the bathroom across the hall.

“Don’t come near her again. I’ve already warned you before, and you haven’t gotten the hint yet,” I say when I reach the bedroom door.

Zed glowers at me, and if it weren’t for Tessa calling my name from the living room, I would have snapped his neck.

“If you hurt her, I swear to God I will make it the last time!” he says loud enough for her to hear as we walk through the door and out into the snow.

Chapter ninety-five

HARDIN

High heels and his fucking boxers. It’s a ridiculous pairing, but I assume she doesn’t have other shoes, which may be a sign that she didn’t plan on staying the night. But, still, she did, and I’m fucking disgusted that she was in his bed. I can’t stand to look at her in those clothes. This is the first time that I don’t want to look at her. Her red dress is in her arms and I know she’s freezing.

I tried to give her my coat, but she just snapped at me to shut up and take her to my father’s place. I don’t even mind her anger toward me; in fact, I welcome it. I’m so relieved and so damn happy that she left with me at all. She could curse me out the entire drive and I’d enjoy every word falling from her full lips.

I’m angry, too, angry at her for running to Zed. Angry at myself for trying to push her away. “I have so much to tell you,” I say as we pull onto my father’s street.

With an icy glare she holds her ground, though. “I don’t want to hear it. You had your chance to talk to me for the past eleven days.”

“Just hear me out, okay?” I beg.

“Why now?” she asks and looks out the window.

“Because . . . because I miss you,” I admit.

“You miss me? You mean you’re jealous that I was with Zed. You didn’t miss me until he picked me up tonight. You are fueled by jealousy, not love.”

“That’s not true, that doesn’t have anything to do with it.” Okay, it does have a lot to do with it, but I do miss her, regardless.

“You didn’t talk to me all evening, then you came outside and told me you were too busy to talk to me. That’s not what you do when you miss someone,” she points out.

“I was lying.” I lift my hands into the air.

“You? Lying? No way.” Her eyes close, and she shakes her head slowly.

God, she’s feisty tonight. I take a deep breath to make sure that I don’t say something that will make this worse. “I don’t have a phone, for starters, and I went home to England.”

Her head snaps to look at me. “You what?”

“I went to England to clear my head. I didn’t know what else to do,” I explain.

Tessa turns down the volume on the radio and crosses her arms in front of her chest. “You didn’t answer my calls.”

“I know. I ignored them, and I’m so sorry for that. I wanted to call you back, but I couldn’t bring myself to, and then I got drunk and broke my phone.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No . . . I just want you to be happy, Tessa.”

She doesn’t say anything; she looks out the window again and I reach for her hand, but she pulls away. “Don’t,” she says.

“Tess . . .”

“No, Hardin! You can’t just show up eleven days later and hold my hand. I’m sick of going around in circles with you. I’m finally at a point where I can go an hour without crying, then you pop up and try to pull me back under. You’ve done this to me since the day I met you, and I’m sick of giving in to it. If you cared about me, you would have explained yourself.” She’s trying her hardest not to cry, I can tell.