After We Collided (The After Series) (40 page)

What?
“Tessa! Wait!” I yell after her. For someone as drunk as she is, she’s really
flying
down those steps. Why must she always run from me?

“Tess!” I shout again, pushing people out of my way.

Finally, when I’m only a few feet from her in the entryway, she does something that nearly brings me to my knees. The blond asshole who was checking her out earlier whistles as she rushes by. As she stops in her tracks, her look makes me freeze, too. Grinning, she grabs a handful of the kid’s shirt.

What the fuck is she doing? Is she going to . . .

She answers my thoughts by looking back at me before pressing her lips against his. I blink rapidly in an attempt to make this disappear. This isn’t happening. She wouldn’t do that, not Tessa, no matter how pissed off she is.

The kid, surprised by her sudden show of affection, quickly recovers and wraps his arms around her waist. Her mouth opens, and she moves one hand to his hair, tugging on it. I can’t comprehend what’s actually happening right now.

“Hardin! Stop!”
she screams.

Stop what?
When I blink again, I’m on top of the blond, and his lip is busted. I hit him already?

“Please, Hardin!” she screams again.

I climb off of him in a hurry before everyone crowds around us. “What the fuck?” the kid groans.

I want to kick him in his fucking head, but I’ve been trying to restrain myself. She had to go and fucking do this, mess up everything I’ve been working toward. I head for the door without bothering to see if she’s following me.

“Why did you hit him?” her voice calls from behind me as I reach my car.

“Why do you
think
, Tessa? Maybe because I just watched you fucking make out with him!” I scream. I almost forgot what it feels like, this adrenaline rush and the familiar sting on my knuckles. I only got one hit in . . . I think, at least . . . so it’s not so bad. But I want more.

She begins to cry. “Why do you care? You kissed that girl! Probably more than kissed! How could you?”

“No! You don’t get to
fucking cry
, Tessa. You just kissed someone right in front of me!” My hand connects with the hood of my car.

“You did worse! I heard you tell that girl to stay quiet about you two in Logan’s room!”

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about—I didn’t fucking kiss anyone!”

“Yes, you did! She said she doesn’t kiss and tell!” she screams, waving her arms around like an idiot.
Fuck, she is infuriating.

“It’s a fucking figure of speech, Tessa. She meant she wasn’t going to tell anyone anything that we talked about—or that we were smoking pot!” I shout.

She gasps. “You were smoking pot?”

“No, I wasn’t, actually, but who gives a shit! You just fucking cheated on me!” I tug at my own hair.

“Why did you leave me to hang out with her, then tell her not to say anything? It doesn’t make any—”

“She’s Dan’s sister! I was telling her not to say anything because I was trying to apologize privately for what I did to her. I was going to tell you tomorrow when you weren’t fucking belligerent! We were all in the room, me, her, Logan, and Nate. They were smoking a joint, and when they left I asked her to stay behind because I wanted to try to make shit right with her, for you.” All my anger comes out through my eyes, I’m certain, when I say, “
I
wouldn’t fucking cheat on you—you should know that!”

And like that, Tessa deflates. She’s speechless. Damn right she is. She’s fucking wrong, and I am fucking
mad
.

“Well . . .” she begins.

“Well
what
? You’re wrong, not me. You didn’t give me a chance to explain myself. Instead you acted like a child. An impulsive little child!” I scream, punching the hood again. She jumps from the noise, but I don’t give a shit.

I should just go back inside, find the blond guy, and finish what I started. Punching my car doesn’t give me the same satisfaction.

“I’m not a child! I thought you did something with her!” she shouts back at me through her tears.

“Well, I didn’t! After everything I went through to get you to stay with me, do you think I’d cheat on you with a random chick at a party . . . or hell, with anyone?”

“I didn’t know what to think.” She throws her hands into the air again. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to calm myself.

“Well, that’s on you, then. I don’t know what the hell else to do to make you see that I love you.” She kissed someone—she kissed another guy right in front of me. This feels worse than when she left me; at least I could blame myself then.

Her warm breath is creating puffs of smoke in the cold air. “Well, maybe if I wasn’t so used to you keeping secrets, I wouldn’t have been so ready to misunderstand!” she yells.

I look at her. “You’re unbelievable. I honestly cannot even
look at you right now.” The image of her kissing him won’t stop playing over and over.

“I’m sorry for kissing him.” She sighs. “It isn’t that big of a deal.”

“You’re joking, right? Please tell me that you are, because if that had been me kissing someone else, you probably wouldn’t have spoken to me again! But I forgot that since it’s Princess Tessa, it’s okay! No harm done!” I mock.

She crosses her arms with an indignation she doesn’t deserve. “Princess Tessa? Really, Hardin?”

“Yeah, really! You cheated on me, right in front of me! I brought you here so you would know how much I care about you. I wanted you to know that I don’t care what anyone thinks about us. I wanted you to have the best night you could have, and then you go and do this shit!”

“Hardin . . . I . . .”

“No! I’m not done.” I pull out my keys. “You’re acting as if this is no big deal! This is a huge deal to me. To see another man’s lips on yours . . . is . . . I can’t even explain how sick that makes me.”

“I said—”

I lose it. I know I look wild and scary, but I can’t help it. “Stop interrupting me for once in your goddamn life!” I shout. “You know what . . . it’s fine. You can go back in there and ask your new boyfriend to give you a ride home.” I turn and unlock the car door. “He looks a lot like Noah, and you probably miss him.”

“What? What does Noah have to do with this? And I clearly do not have a type,” she growls and gestures at me. “Though maybe I should.”

“Fuck this,” I spit and climb into the car, turning it on and leaving her standing out in the cold. When I get to the stop sign, I can’t help but hit the steering wheel over and over.

If she doesn’t call me within an hour, I’ll know she went home with someone else.

T
en minutes later I’m still standing on the sidewalk. My legs and arms are numb, and I’m shivering. Hardin will come back any minute, there’s no way he’ll actually leave me here, alone. Drunk and alone.

When I go to call him, I remember that he has my phone.
Great.

What the hell was I thinking?
I wasn’t thinking, that’s the problem. We were doing so good, and I didn’t even try to give him the benefit of the doubt. Instead I kissed someone. The memory makes me want to vomit on the sidewalk.

Why hasn’t he come back yet?

I need to go inside. It’s way too cold out here, and I want another drink. My buzz is starting to wear off, and I’m not ready to face reality. When I get inside, I head directly for the kitchen and pour myself a drink. This is why I shouldn’t drink—I have no common sense when I’m drunk. I immediately assumed the worst of him and made a huge mistake.

“Tessa?” Zed’s voice says from behind me.

“Hey.” I groan and lift my head up from the cool counter and turn to face him.

“Um . . . what are you doing?” He half laughs. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah . . . I’m okay,” I lie.

“Where’s Hardin?”

“He left.”

“He left? Without you?”

“Yep.” I take a drink from my cup.

“Why?”

“Because I’m an idiot,” I answer honestly.

“I doubt that.” He smiles.

“No, really, I am this time.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, not really.” I sigh.

“Okay . . . well, I’ll leave you alone,” he says and begins to walk away. But then he turns back around. “It’s not supposed to be so complicated, you know?”

“What?” I ask him and follow him to sit at a card table in the kitchen.

“Love, relationships, all that. It doesn’t have to be so hard.”

“Doesn’t it, though? Isn’t it always like this?” I have no reference except Noah. We never fought like this, but I don’t know that I loved him. Not like I do Hardin. I dump my drink down the sink and grab a glass to fill with water.

“I don’t think so. I’ve never seen anyone fight the way you two do.”

“It’s because we’re so different, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I guess you are.” He smiles.

By the time I check the clock again, it’s been an hour since Hardin left me here. Maybe he isn’t coming back after all. “Would you forgive someone if they kissed someone else?” I finally ask Zed.

“I guess it depends on the details.”

“What if they did it right in front of you?”

“Hell, no. That’s unforgivable,” he says with a disgusted expression.

“Oh.”

Zed leans toward me sympathetically. “He did that?”

“No.” I look up at him with wide eyes. “
I
did.”

“
You
did?” Zed is clearly surprised.

“Yeah . . . I told you I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, I hate to say it, but you are.”

“Yep,” I agree.

“How are you getting home?” he asks.

“Well, I keep thinking he’s going to come back to get me, but he’s obviously not going to.” I bite my lip.

“I can take you if you want,” he says. But when I look around uncertainly, he adds, “Or Steph and Tristan are probably upstairs . . . you know.”

I look at him quickly. “Actually, can you take me now?” I don’t want to dig myself in any deeper, but I’m beginning to sober up, thank goodness, and I just want to be home to try to talk to Hardin.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Zed says, and I down the last of my water before following him outside to his car.

WHEN WE’RE ONLY
about ten minutes away from the apartment, I begin panicking over Hardin’s reaction to Zed driving me home. I keep trying to force myself to sober up, but it doesn’t work that way. I’m a lot less intoxicated than I was an hour ago, but I’m still drunk.

“Can I use your phone to try to call him?” I ask Zed.

He removes one hand from the steering wheel to dig into his pocket for his phone. “Here . . . shit, it’s dead,” he says, pressing the button on the top and revealing an empty-battery symbol.

“Thanks anyway.” I shrug. Calling Hardin from Zed’s phone probably isn’t the best idea I’ve had. Not as bad as my idea to kiss a random guy in front of Hardin, but still not a good one.

“What if he isn’t here?” I say.

Zed looks at me quizzically. “You have a key, don’t you?”

“I didn’t bring mine . . . I didn’t think I would need it.”

“Oh . . . well . . . I’m sure he’ll be here,” Zed says, but he sounds nervous.

Hardin would literally murder him if he found me at Zed’s place. When we do arrive at the apartment, Zed parks and I scan the parking lot for Hardin’s car. And it’s parked in his usual spot, thank God. I have no idea what I would have done if he weren’t here.

Zed insists on walking me up. As much as I think that will not end well, I don’t know if I’m capable of getting myself up to the apartment alone in my intoxicated state.

Damn Hardin for leaving me at that party. Damn me for being an impulsive idiot. Damn Zed for being so sweet and fearless when he shouldn’t be. Damn Washington for being so damn cold.

When we reach the elevator, my head begins to pound along with my heart. I need to go over what I’m going to say to Hardin. He’ll be so mad at me, and I need to think of a good way to apologize without using sex. I’m not used to being the one to apologize for anything, because he’s always the one who messes up. Being on this side of things doesn’t feel good at all. It feels terrible.

We walk down the hallway, and I can’t help but feel as if we’re preparing to walk the plank. I just don’t know whether it will be Zed or myself that drops down into the water.

I knock, and Zed stands a few feet behind me as we wait for the door to open. This was a terrible idea, I should’ve just stayed at the party. I knock again, this time louder. What if he doesn’t answer?

What if he took my car and isn’t even here? I didn’t think of that.

“If he doesn’t answer, can I go to your place?” I try to hold my tears back.

I don’t want to stay at Zed’s and make Hardin even more upset with me, but I can’t really think of another option.

What if he doesn’t forgive me? I can’t be without him. Zed’s hand touches my back, and he rubs up and down to soothe me. I can
not
cry, I need to be calm when he answers . . . if he answers.

“Of course you can,” Zed finally replies.

“Hardin! Please open up,” I quietly beg and rest my forehead against the door. I don’t want to yell and cause a scene at nearly two in the morning; our neighbors probably have issues with us yelling enough already.

“I guess he’s not going to answer.” I sigh and lean up against the wall for a minute. Then, finally, as we turn to walk away, the door clicks open.

“Well . . . look who decided to show up,” Hardin says as he stands in the doorway and eyes us. Something about his tone sends chills down my spine. When I turn to face him, his eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks are pink. “Zed! Pal! It’s so nice to see you,” he slurs. He’s drunk.

My thoughts suddenly clear. “Hardin . . . have you been drinking?”

He looks at me imperiously, clearly unsteady. “What’s it to you? You have a
new
boyfriend.”

“Hardin . . .” I don’t know what to say to him. He’s obviously wasted. The last time I saw him this drunk was the night Landon called me to come to Ken’s house. With his father’s history of drinking, and the way Trish was so fearful that Hardin had began to drink again, my heart sinks.