After We Collided (After, #2) by Anna Todd Read Online (FREE)
“I did, but I still like it better when you do it,” I admit and he smiles.
“Well, I would hope so,” he says, and I lift my head up to plant a kiss over the indent of his dimple. “There are a lot of things I can show you,” he adds, and when I flush again he reassures me, “One step at a time.”
My imagination runs wild at the thoughts of all the things Hardin could show me—there are probably so many things I’ve never even heard of that he has done, and I want to learn them all.
He breaks the silence. “Let’s get you a shower, my star pupil.”
I lower my eyes at him. “You mean your only pupil?”
“Yeah, of course. Although maybe I should teach Landon next. He needs it just as bad as you,” he teases and moves to climb off the bed.
“Hardin!” I shriek, and he laughs, a real laugh, and it is such a beautiful sound.
WHEN MY ALARM GOES OFF early Monday morning, I fly out of bed and head to the bathroom to take a shower. The water gives me energy, and my thoughts begin to travel back to my first semester at WCU. I had no idea what to expect, but at the same time I felt very prepared. I had every detail down. I thought I’d make a few friends and focus on extracurriculars, maybe join the literary club and a few more. I would spend my time in my dorm or at the library studying and preparing for my future.
Little did I know that just a few months later I would be living in an apartment with my boyfriend, who was not Noah. I had no idea what was coming when my mother pulled into the parking lot at WCU—even less so when I met the rude boy with the curly hair. I wouldn’t have believed it if someone told me, and now I can’t imagine my life without that crabby guy. Butterflies begin to dance in my stomach as I remember the way it felt to catch a glimpse of him on campus, to try to glance around the room to look for him in Literature, the way I’d catch him looking at me while the professor was speaking, the way he’d eavesdrop on Landon and me. Those days seem so long ago, ancient really.
I’m startled from my nostalgic thoughts as the shower curtain is pulled back to reveal a shirtless Hardin, his hair messy and falling over his forehead as he rubs his eyes.
He smiles, his speech drawn out and thick from sleep. “What are you doing in here so long? Practicing your lessons from yesterday?”
“No!” I squeak, flushing as the image of Hardin coming pops into my mind.
He winks. “Sure, babe.”
“I wasn’t! I was just thinking,” I admit.
“About what?” He sits down on the toilet, and I close the curtain.
“Just about before . . .”
“Before what?” he asks, his tone full of worry.