After We Collided (The After Series) (38 page)

“You were supposed to be right back . . .
Baby.
”

I sigh and take a deep breath before speaking again. I always react to every impulse that I get, and I’m trying not to do that anymore. But fuck if she doesn’t make it difficult. “Let’s go inside,” I say and reach for her hand.

I need to get her away from Zed, and honestly, I need to get myself away from him as well. I’ve already beat the shit out of him once, and something in me wouldn’t mind doing it again.

“I’m going to get a tattoo, Hardin,” Tess tells me as I help her down from the wall.

“What?”
Is she drunk?

“Yeah . . . you should see Zed’s new tattoo, Hardin. It’s so nice.” She smiles. “Show him, Zed.”

Why the fuck was Tessa looking at his tattoos, and how much did I miss? What else were they doing? What else was he showing her? He has wanted her since the first time he met her, just like I did. The difference being that I wanted to fuck her, and he actually liked her. But I won; she chose me.

“I don’t . . .” Zed begins, visibly uncomfortable.

“No, no. Go on, show me, please,” I say sarcastically.

Zed blows out some smoke and, to my horror and absolute fucking annoyance, lifts his shirt up. Moving the bandage aside, I see that the tattoo itself is actually pretty cool, but why he felt the need to show my Tessa this shit is beyond me.

Tessa beams. “Isn’t it cool? I want one. I think we decided on a smiley face!”

She isn’t serious. I pull my lip ring between my teeth to prevent myself from laughing at her. I look at Zed, who just shakes his head and shrugs. Some of my annoyance disappears at her ridiculous idea for a tattoo. “Are you drunk?” I ask her.

“Maybe.” She giggles.
Great
.

“How much did you drink?” I ask. I had two drinks, but I can tell she’s had more.

“I don’t know . . . how much did
you
drink?” she teases, and lifts up the bottom of my shirt. Her cold hands rest against my hot skin, and I flinch before she nuzzles her head on my chest.

See, Zed, she’s mine. Not yours, not anyone’s, only mine.

Looking at him, I ask, “How much did she drink?”

“I’m not sure how much she drank before, but we just played two games of beer pong . . . with cherry vodka sour.”

“Wait . . . we? You two played beer pong?” I ask through my teeth.

“Nope. Cherry-vodka-sour pong!” she corrects me with a laugh and brings her head up. “We won, too, twice! I made most of the shots. Steph and Tristan were both pretty good, but we beat them. Twice!” She holds her hand up like Zed should high-five it, and he begrudgingly does a sort of air-high-five from where he stands.

This is Tessa, the girl who is so used to being the best and smartest at everything that she’s boasting over winning a game of beer pong.

I love every bit of it. “Straight vodka?” I ask Zed.

“No, it’s the mix with only a little vodka, but she had a lot of it.”

“And you brought her out here in the dark when you knew she was wasted?” I say, raising my voice.

Tessa brings her face close to mine, and I can smell the vodka and mix on her breath. “Hardin, please chill out. I’m the one who asked him if I could c-come outside with him. He told me no at first because he knew you’d act like . . . like
thissss
.” She frowns and tries to remove her hands from my bare stomach, but I gently put them back against my skin. I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her even closer to me.

Chill out?
Did she really just tell me to chill out?

“And let’sss not forget if you wouldn’t have left me, we c-could have been beer-pong partnersss,” she adds, slurring.

I know she’s right, but she’s pissing me off. How could she play with Zed, of all people? I know he has feelings for her still. Nothing compared to what I feel, but I can tell by the way he’s looking at her that he cares for her.

“Am I right, or am I right?” she asks.

“Okay, Tessa,” I growl in an attempt to silence her.

“I’m going to go inside,” Zed says, tossing his cigarette onto the ground before walking away.

Tessa watches him, then says to me, “You are so grumpy, maybe you should go back to wherever you ran off to.” She tries to pull away from me again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I respond, purposely dodging her remark about my absence.

“Then stop being grumpy—because I’m having fun tonight.” She looks up at me. Her eyes appear even lighter than usual with the black lines she colored around them.

“You couldn’t have expected me to be happy to find you alone with that motherfucker.”

“Would you rather me being out here with someone else?” She’s awfully testy when she’s drunk.

“No, you’re missing the point here,” I snap.

“There’s no point. I didn’t do anything wrong, so stop being an ass or I don’t want to hang out with you,” she threatens.

“Fine, I won’t be a grouch.” I roll my eyes.

“No rolling your eyes either,” she scolds, and I take my arms away from her waist.

“Fine, no eye rolling.” I smile.

“That’s what I thought.” She tries to fight her smile.

“You are quite bossy tonight.”

“The vodka makes me brave.”

I feel her hands move lower on my stomach. “So you want a tattoo, then?” I ask, moving her hands back up, but she defies my attempt and touches me even lower.

“Yep, maybe five.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“You aren’t getting a tattoo.” I laugh, but I’m beyond serious.

“Why not?” Her fingers play at the hem of my boxers.

“Let’s talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober.” I know this idea will not appeal to her when she’s not drunk. “Let’s go inside.”

She slips her hand into my boxers and stands on her toes. I assume she’s going to kiss my cheek, but she brings her mouth to my ear. I hiss as she squeezes me gently in her hand.

“I think we should stay out here,” she whispers.
Fuck
.

“The vodka certainly makes you brave.” My voice cracks, betraying me.

“Yes . . . and it makes me hor—” she begins to say, way too loud. I cover her mouth as a small group of drunk girls walks by.

“We need to get inside, it’s freezing, and I don’t think they would appreciate me fucking you in the bushes.” I smirk, and her pupils dilate.

“But
I
would appreciate that very much,” she says the moment my hand uncovers her mouth.

“Jesus, Tess, a few drinks and you become sex-crazed.” I laugh, remembering Seattle and the filthy words that fell from her full lips. I need to get her inside before I take her up on her offer and drag her into the bushes.

She winks. “Only for you.”

I can’t hold in my laughter. “Let’s go.” I put my hand on her arm and pull her across the yard and into the house.

She pouts the entire time, and that makes my groin ache even more, especially when she pushes her bottom lip out. I could easily lean across and pull it between my teeth. Fuck, I’m just as bad as she is, and I’m not even drunk. Maybe a little high, but not drunk. She would be so mad if she’d found me upstairs; I didn’t actually smoke, but I was in the room and they were making it a point to blow it in my face.

I pull her through the crowd and lead her into the least crowded room downstairs, which happens to the kitchen. Tessa leans her elbows on the island and looks up at me. How is it that she looks just as beautiful as she did when we left the apartment? All the other girls here look dreadful by now—after the first drink, their makeup begins to smear, their hair begins to tangle, and
they look sloppy. Not Tessa. Tessa looks like a fucking goddess compared to them. Compared to anyone.

“I want another drink, Hardin,” she says, but when I shake my head, she sticks her tongue out of her mouth like a child. “Please? I’m having fun, don’t be a party pooper.”

“Fine, one more, but you have to stop talking like a ten-year-old,” I tease her.

“Okay, sir. I most sincerely apologize for my immature language. I will not repeat said indiscretion—”

“Or an old man,” I say with a laugh. “But you can call me sir again.”

“Fuck, well, okay, then. I’ll fucking stop fucking talking like a motherfucking . . .”

But she doesn’t finish her foul sentence because she and I are both laughing too hard.

“You’re insane tonight,” I tell her.

She giggles. “I know, it’s fun.”

I’m glad she’s having fun, but I can’t help the annoyance that I feel at her having had fun with Zed, not me. I’m going to keep my mouth shut, though, because I don’t want to ruin her night.

She stands, taking a sip from her drink. “Let’s go find Steph.”

“You okay with her now?” I ask as I follow her. I don’t know how I feel about that. Good? I suppose . . .

“I think so. There they are!” She points to Tristan and Steph sitting on the couch.

As we walk into the living room, a small cluster of guys sitting on the floor turns to look at Tessa. She’s oblivious to their lustful stares, but I’m not. I shoot them a warning glare, and almost all of them turn away except a blond who slightly resembles Noah. He continues to stare as we walk by; I debate whether kicking him in the face would be a good idea or not. But I choose to take Tessa’s hand in mine instead, for now at least.

Her head snaps back to look down at our joined hands,
and her eyes are wide. Why is she so surprised? I mean, yeah, hand-holding isn’t something I feel comfortable doing usually, but I do it on occasion . . . don’t I?

“There you two are!” Steph calls as we approach.

Molly is sitting on the floor next to a guy I recognize. I’m pretty sure he’s a junior and his father owns some land in Vancouver, making him a trust-fund brat. The two of them look fucking stupid together, but I’m just glad she’s leaving me alone for now. She is so damn annoying, and Tessa hates her.

“We were outside,” I tell her.

“I’m bored,” Nate says, stirring his finger through his beer.

I sit down at the end of the couch and pull Tessa onto my lap. Eyes dart to us, but I don’t give a shit. I dare someone to say something about it. Within seconds, they all look away, except Steph, who stares a little too long before smiling. I don’t return it, but I don’t flip her off either, which is progress, right?

“We should play Truth or Dare,” a voice suggests, and it takes a second to realize who the voice came from.

What the hell?
I lean my head up to look at Tessa, who is still seated on my lap.

“Sure, like you want to play,” Molly mocks her.

“Why would you suggest that? You hate those games,” I say quietly.

She smirks. “I don’t know, I think it could be fun tonight.”

I follow her eyes to Molly, and I don’t even want to know what is stirring in that pretty head of Tessa’s.

R
ight as I whisper to Tessa, “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” she turns around in my lap and puts her index finger over my lips to silence me.

Molly pipes up with a sly smile, “What’s wrong, Hardin, afraid of a little dare . . . or is it the truth that you fear?”

What a fucking cunt.
I’m about to reply, but I’m taken aback when Tessa growls, “You’re the one that should be afraid.”

Molly raises one brow. “Really?”

“Okay . . . okay . . . calm down, you two,” Nate says.

As much as I’m enjoying watching Tessa put Molly in her place, I don’t want Molly to take it too far. Tessa is a lot more fragile and sensitive than she is, and Molly will say anything she can to hurt Tessa.

“Who goes first?” Tristan asks.

Tessa’s hand shoots up immediately. “Me.”

Oh Lord, this is going to be a fucking disaster.

“I think that maybe I should go first,” Steph interjects.

Tessa sighs but sits silently, bringing her cup to her lips. Her lips are reddish from the cherry drink, and for a moment I’m lost in thoughts of them being wrapped around me—

“Hardin, truth or dare?” Steph breaks me from my perverted thoughts.

“Not playing,” I say and try to go back to my fantasy.

“Why not?” she asks.

The spell broken, I look at her and groan. “A, I don’t want to. B, I’ve played more than enough lame-ass games.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Molly mutters.

“That isn’t what he meant, back off,” Tristan says to defend me.

Why did I ever fuck Molly, again?
She’s hot and was decent at giving blow jobs, but she’s so damn annoying. The memory of her touching me makes me nauseous, and I give Steph a keep-it-moving hand motion in order to redirect my mind.

“Okay, Nate. Truth or dare?” Steph asks.

“Dare,” he answers.

“Hmm . . .” Steph points to a tall girl wearing bright red lipstick. “I dare you to go kiss that blonde in the blue shirt.”

Looking over, he whines, “Can’t I kiss her friend instead?”

We all look at the girl next to the blonde, who has long, curly hair and deep brown skin. She’s much prettier than the blonde, so for Nate’s sake I hope Steph allows the change. But instead she laughs and says with authority, “Nope, Blondie it is.”

“You are evil.” He groans, and everyone laughs as he walks toward the girl.

As Nate walks back with red lipstick stains around his lips, I now get why Tessa usually despises these games. Daring one another to do stupid things like this is just pointless. I never minded before, but then again I’ve never wanted to kiss one person only. I never want to kiss anyone except Tessa ever again.

When Nate dares Tristan to drink a cup of beer that people have been using for an ashtray, I zone out. I take a lock of Tessa’s soft hair between my fingers, slowly twisting it around. She covers her face with her hands as Tristan gags and Steph shrieks.

After a few more mindless dares, it’s finally Tessa’s turn. “Dare,” she bravely says to Ed.

I glare at him, warning him that if he dares her to do anything
inappropriate, I will not hesitate to jump across the table and choke him. He’s a pretty cool and chill guy, so I didn’t really think he would go too far, but I wanted to warn him anyway. “I dare you to take a shot,” he says.