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After We Collided (After, #2) by Anna Todd Read Online (FREE)

To my horror, the plaid thing that I thought was pants is in fact a pair of boxers. Zed’s boxers. Oh God. I unzip my dress and pull the large T-shirt over my head before considering what to do about the boxers.

The shirt is smaller than Hardin’s shirts are; it barely hits the top of my thigh and it doesn’t smell like Hardin. Of course it doesn’t, it’s not Hardin’s. It smells like laundry soap with the smallest hint of cigarette smoke. The smell is nice somehow, though not as nice as the familiar scent of the boy that I miss.

I pull the boxers up my legs and look down. They aren’t too short. In fact, they’re sort of baggy, tighter than Hardin’s would be, but not too tight. I’ll just walk to the couch and cover myself with the blanket as fast as I can.

I’m incredibly embarrassed to be wearing them, but it would be even more embarrassing to make a big deal out of it after everything Zed has been through tonight because of me. His poor face holds the proof of Hardin’s anger, a big bloody reminder of why Hardin and I would never work. Hardin only cares for himself, and the only reason he lost it when he saw Zed is his pride. He doesn’t want me, but he doesn’t want me to be with anyone else either.

I leave my dress folded on the bathroom floor; it’s already dirty and ruined anyway. I’ll try the dry cleaners, but I’m not sure if it can be saved. I really loved that dress, too, and it cost me a decent amount of money—money that I sorely need once I find my own apartment.

I walk as fast as I can, but when I reach the living room, Zed is standing next to the television. His eyes go wide as they rake up and down my body. “I . . . uh, I was putting something . . . I was putting, trying to find a movie . . . to watch. Or something for you to watch, I mean,” he stammers, and I sit on the couch and pull the blanket over me.

His fumbled words and the look in his eyes make him appear younger and more vulnerable than usual.

He laughs nervously. “Sorry, I was trying to say I was turning the TV on so you could watch it.”

“Thank you,” I say and smile as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. He rests his elbows on his knees and stares forward.

“If you don’t want to keep hanging out with me, I understand,” I say to break the silence.

He turns to face me. “What? No, don’t think that.” His eyes pour into mine. “Don’t worry about me, I can handle it. A couple beatings aren’t going to make me stay away from you. The only thing that will is if you tell me to. You want me to, then I will. But until you tell me to go, I’m here.”