Page 154
Story: After (After 1)
“Why? So I could make you breakfast?” I laugh.
“No . . . well, yes. That and waking up to seeing you half dressed in the kitchen.” He nips at my neck. He attempts to lift up the hem of the T-shirt and squeeze the top of my thighs.
I spin and wave a spatula in his face. “Hands to yourself until after breakfast, Scott.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles and grabs a plate, piling it with food.
After breakfast, I force Hardin to take a shower despite his efforts to drag me back to the bed. His dark confession and the fight with my mother seem to be forgotten in the morning light. My breath is lost in my chest when Hardin walks out of the bedroom in his outfit for the wedding. The black dress pants are snug but hang off his hips in the most delicious way, and his tie is hanging around his neck while his white button-down shirt is undone, revealing his gorgeous, toned torso.
“I . . . uhh . . . I actually have no idea how to tie a tie.” He shrugs.
My mouth is dry and I can’t stop staring at him, so I choke out, “I can help you.” Thankfully, Hardin doesn’t ask where I learned to tie a tie, since his mood would turn sour quickly at the mention of Noah. “You look so handsome,” I tell him when I finish. He shrugs and puts the black jacket on, completing the look.
His cheeks flame and I can’t help but laugh at the unexpected emotion. I can tell he feels completely out of his element being dressed this way—and it’s adorable.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” he asks.
“I was waiting until the last minute, since my dress is all white,” I tell him and he mocks me playfully.
Finally, after another check of my makeup and grabbing my shoes, I do put the dress on. It’s even shorter than I remember, but Hardin seems to approve. His eyes never leave my chest after catching sight of my strapless bra. He always makes me feel so beautiful and wanted.
“As long as all the men there are my father’s age, we shouldn’t have a problem.” He smirks and zips me up. I roll my eyes and he kisses my bare shoulder before I unclip my hair, letting my long curls fall down my shoulders. The pale fabric of the dress is tight against my body, and I smile at the reflection of Hardin and me in the mirror.
“You are absolutely stunning,” he tells me, kissing me again.
We scramble around and make sure we have everything we need for the wedding, including the invitation and a congratulations card I bought. As I put my phone into a small clutch bag, Hardin grabs me by the waist.
“Smile,” he says and pulls out his phone.
“I thought you didn’t take pictures.”
“I told you I would take one, so let’s take one.” His smile is goofy and youthful and it makes my heart swell.
I smile and lean into Hardin as he snaps our picture. “One more,” he instructs and I stick my tongue out at the last moment. He captured it at the right moment, my tongue on his cheek and his eyes wide and full of humor.
“That’s my favorite,” I tell him.
“There are only two.”
“Yeah, but still.” I kiss him and he snaps another.
“Accident,” he lies, and I hear him take another as I give him a look.
NEAR HIS FATHER’S HOUSE, Hardin stops to get gas so we don’t have to on the way home. As he is filling up, a familiar car pulls into the parking lot, with Nate in the front seat. Zed parks his car two pumps over from Hardin’s and gets out to go inside.
I gasp when I get a good look at him: his lip is swollen, and both his eyes are black and blue. His cheek has a deep purple bruise, and when he notices Hardin’s car a furious scowl takes over his handsome, damaged face. What the hell? He doesn’t say anything at all, or even acknowledge Hardin and me. Within seconds, Hardin climbs back into the car and takes my hand. I look down at our intertwined fingers and gasp, my eyes trailing over his busted knuckles.
“You!” I say and he raises his brow. “You beat him up, didn’t you? That’s who you fought and that’s why he just ignored us!”
“Would you calm down?” Hardin barks and rolls up my window before pulling out of the lot.
“Hardin . . .” I look over to where Zed has disappeared inside, then back at Hardin.
“Can we please talk about it after the wedding? I’m already on edge. Please?” he begs and I nod.
“Fine. After the wedding,” I agree and gently squeeze the hand of his that did so much damage to my friend.
Chapter ninety-three
Clearly trying to change the subject, Hardin asks, “So now that we have our own place, I assume you don’t want to stay at my father’s house tonight still?”
I force Zed’s beaten face to the back of my mind. “You’d assume correctly.” I smile. “Unless Karen asks us to; you know I won’t say no,” I tell him.
I am nervous to see Ken after what Hardin told me last night. I am trying to clear it from my mind, but it’s harder to accomplish than I thought.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he says and reaches for the radio.
I look over at him and he holds his finger up to tell me to wait. “I decided to give the Fray another try,” he informs me.
“Really? And when did you decide this?” I question.
“Well, after our first date at the stream, but I didn’t open the CD until last week,” he admits.
“That was not a date,” I tease and he chuckles.
“You let me finger you. I would say that’s a date.”
He grabs my hand as I try to swat him and kisses my palm. I giggle and wrap my fingers around his slender ones. Images of me lying on the wet T-shirt while Hardin gave me my first orgasm flood my thoughts and Hardin smirks.
“No . . . well, yes. That and waking up to seeing you half dressed in the kitchen.” He nips at my neck. He attempts to lift up the hem of the T-shirt and squeeze the top of my thighs.
I spin and wave a spatula in his face. “Hands to yourself until after breakfast, Scott.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles and grabs a plate, piling it with food.
After breakfast, I force Hardin to take a shower despite his efforts to drag me back to the bed. His dark confession and the fight with my mother seem to be forgotten in the morning light. My breath is lost in my chest when Hardin walks out of the bedroom in his outfit for the wedding. The black dress pants are snug but hang off his hips in the most delicious way, and his tie is hanging around his neck while his white button-down shirt is undone, revealing his gorgeous, toned torso.
“I . . . uhh . . . I actually have no idea how to tie a tie.” He shrugs.
My mouth is dry and I can’t stop staring at him, so I choke out, “I can help you.” Thankfully, Hardin doesn’t ask where I learned to tie a tie, since his mood would turn sour quickly at the mention of Noah. “You look so handsome,” I tell him when I finish. He shrugs and puts the black jacket on, completing the look.
His cheeks flame and I can’t help but laugh at the unexpected emotion. I can tell he feels completely out of his element being dressed this way—and it’s adorable.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” he asks.
“I was waiting until the last minute, since my dress is all white,” I tell him and he mocks me playfully.
Finally, after another check of my makeup and grabbing my shoes, I do put the dress on. It’s even shorter than I remember, but Hardin seems to approve. His eyes never leave my chest after catching sight of my strapless bra. He always makes me feel so beautiful and wanted.
“As long as all the men there are my father’s age, we shouldn’t have a problem.” He smirks and zips me up. I roll my eyes and he kisses my bare shoulder before I unclip my hair, letting my long curls fall down my shoulders. The pale fabric of the dress is tight against my body, and I smile at the reflection of Hardin and me in the mirror.
“You are absolutely stunning,” he tells me, kissing me again.
We scramble around and make sure we have everything we need for the wedding, including the invitation and a congratulations card I bought. As I put my phone into a small clutch bag, Hardin grabs me by the waist.
“Smile,” he says and pulls out his phone.
“I thought you didn’t take pictures.”
“I told you I would take one, so let’s take one.” His smile is goofy and youthful and it makes my heart swell.
I smile and lean into Hardin as he snaps our picture. “One more,” he instructs and I stick my tongue out at the last moment. He captured it at the right moment, my tongue on his cheek and his eyes wide and full of humor.
“That’s my favorite,” I tell him.
“There are only two.”
“Yeah, but still.” I kiss him and he snaps another.
“Accident,” he lies, and I hear him take another as I give him a look.
NEAR HIS FATHER’S HOUSE, Hardin stops to get gas so we don’t have to on the way home. As he is filling up, a familiar car pulls into the parking lot, with Nate in the front seat. Zed parks his car two pumps over from Hardin’s and gets out to go inside.
I gasp when I get a good look at him: his lip is swollen, and both his eyes are black and blue. His cheek has a deep purple bruise, and when he notices Hardin’s car a furious scowl takes over his handsome, damaged face. What the hell? He doesn’t say anything at all, or even acknowledge Hardin and me. Within seconds, Hardin climbs back into the car and takes my hand. I look down at our intertwined fingers and gasp, my eyes trailing over his busted knuckles.
“You!” I say and he raises his brow. “You beat him up, didn’t you? That’s who you fought and that’s why he just ignored us!”
“Would you calm down?” Hardin barks and rolls up my window before pulling out of the lot.
“Hardin . . .” I look over to where Zed has disappeared inside, then back at Hardin.
“Can we please talk about it after the wedding? I’m already on edge. Please?” he begs and I nod.
“Fine. After the wedding,” I agree and gently squeeze the hand of his that did so much damage to my friend.
Chapter ninety-three
Clearly trying to change the subject, Hardin asks, “So now that we have our own place, I assume you don’t want to stay at my father’s house tonight still?”
I force Zed’s beaten face to the back of my mind. “You’d assume correctly.” I smile. “Unless Karen asks us to; you know I won’t say no,” I tell him.
I am nervous to see Ken after what Hardin told me last night. I am trying to clear it from my mind, but it’s harder to accomplish than I thought.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he says and reaches for the radio.
I look over at him and he holds his finger up to tell me to wait. “I decided to give the Fray another try,” he informs me.
“Really? And when did you decide this?” I question.
“Well, after our first date at the stream, but I didn’t open the CD until last week,” he admits.
“That was not a date,” I tease and he chuckles.
“You let me finger you. I would say that’s a date.”
He grabs my hand as I try to swat him and kisses my palm. I giggle and wrap my fingers around his slender ones. Images of me lying on the wet T-shirt while Hardin gave me my first orgasm flood my thoughts and Hardin smirks.
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