After (After 1)

Chapter 30

“Are you afraid?” His tone is calm but serious.

“No . . . I don’t know. Sort of,” I admit and he walks through the water toward me.

“Sit on the edge and I’ll help you in.”

I sit down and close my legs tightly so he doesn’t see my panties. Noticing this, he grins as he reaches me. His hands grip my thighs and once again I am on fire. Why does my body have to respond to him this way? I’m trying to make us friends, so I need to ignore the fire. He moves his hands to my waist and asks, “Ready?”

As soon as I nod yes, he is lifting me and pulling me into the water, water that’s warm and feels amazing against my hot skin. Hardin lets me go too soon and I stand up in the water. We are closer to the bank so it only reaches just below my chest.

“Don’t just stand there,” he says mockingly, and I ignore him but do walk out a little. The T-shirt bubbles up from the water going under it and I yelp and pull it down. Once it’s positioned, it promises to stay put for the most part.

“You could just take it off,” he says with a smirk and I splash at him. “Did you just splash me?” He laughs and I nod, splashing at him again. He shakes his wet head and lunges for me under the water. His long arms hook around my waist and pull me under. My hand flies up to plug my nose; I haven’t mastered swimming without my nose plugged. When we emerge, Hardin is cracking up, and I can’t help but laugh with him. I am actually having fun, real fun, not that average watching-a-good-movie fun.

“I can’t decide which is more amusing: the fact that you are actually having a good time or the fact that you have to plug your nose underwater,” he says through his laughter.

I get a jolt of bravery and move toward him, ignoring the way the T-shirt floats up again, and I try to push his head underwater. Of course, he is too strong for me and doesn’t budge, so he only laughs harder, showing all of his beautiful white teeth. Why can’t he be like this all the time?

“I believe you owe me an answer to a question,” I remind him.

He looks off toward the bank. “Sure, but only one.”

I’m not sure which one to ask, I have so many. Before I can decide, though, I hear my voice making the decision for me: “Who do you love the most in the world?”

Why would I ask him that? I want to know more specific things, like why is he a jerk? Why is he in America?

He looks at me suspiciously, as if he is confused by my question.

“Myself,” he answers, and goes back underwater for a few seconds.

He pops back up and I shake my head. “That can’t be true,” I say in challenge. I know he is arrogant but he has to love someone . . . anyone? “What about your parents?” I ask and immediately regret it.

His face twists and his eyes lose the softness I was becoming fond of. “Do not speak of my parents again, got it?” he snaps, and I want to smack myself for ruining the good time we were having.

“I’m sorry, I was just curious. You said you would answer a question,” I remind him quietly. His face softens a little and he steps toward me, the water around us rippling. “I really am sorry, Hardin, I won’t mention them again,” I promise. I really don’t want to fight with him out here; he would probably leave me out here alone if I upset him too much.

He takes me by surprise when he grabs my waist and lifts me into the air. I kick my legs and flail my arms, screaming at him to put me down, but he only obliges me by laughing and tossing me into the water. I land a few feet away and when I come above water his eyes are bright with glee.

“You’re going to pay for that!” I yell. He fake-yawns in response, so I swim at him, and he grabs me again—but this time I wrap my thighs around his waist without really realizing it. A shocked gasp falls from his lips.

“Sorry,” I mutter and unhook my legs.

But he grabs them and folds them back around his waist. That electricity between us can be felt again, this time more intensely than ever before. Why does this always happen with him? I shut my mind off from my thoughts and put my arms around his neck to steady myself.

“What are you doing to me, Tess,” he says softly, and rubs his thumb over my bottom lip.

“I don’t know . . .” I answer truthfully into his thumb, which still traces over my mouth.

“These lips . . . the things you could do with them,” he says slowly, seductively. I feel that burn deep in my stomach that makes me putty in his arms. “Do you want me to stop?” He looks into my eyes; his pupils are so dilated that there is only a slight ring around the now dark green of his eyes.

Before my mind can catch up, I shake my head and press my body against his under the water.

“We can’t just be friends, you know that, don’t you?” His lips touch my chin, making me tremble. He continues a line of kisses along my jawline and I nod. I know he is right. I have no idea what this is that we are, but I know I will never be able to only be friends with Hardin. As his lips touch the spot just below my ear, I moan, prompting Hardin to do it again, this time sucking the skin.

“Oh, Hardin,” I moan and squeeze him with my legs. I bring my hands down his back and graze my nails against his skin. I might explode just from him kissing my neck alone.

“I want to make you moan my name, Tessa, over and over again. Please let me?” His voice is full of desperation.

And I know deep inside there’s no way I can say no.

“Say it, Tessa.” He takes my earlobe between his teeth. I nod again, harder. “I need you to say it, baby, out loud so I know you really want me to.” His hand travels down and under his T-shirt that I am wearing.