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

“I really think you should get some gloves, too. The ice is really cold, and when you fall your hands will freeze,” she says again.

“I’m not going to fall . . . but sure, I’ll get gloves if you insist.” I smile, and she returns it as she tosses a pair of black gloves into her basket.

“Do you want a hat?” she asks.

“No, I have a beanie in the trunk.”

“Of course you do.” She pulls the scarf out of the basket and hangs it back up.

“No scarf?” I ask her.

“I think I’ll be okay with all of this.” She points to the basket.

“Yeah, I’d say so,” I tease, but she ignores me and walks to the sock section. We’re going to be in this damn store all night.

Finally, Tessa says, “Okay, I’m done, I think.”

At the register, she tries to argue with me over paying for her stuff like she always does. But this is a date that I asked her on, so there’s no way in hell I’m letting her pay. To that sentiment, she just rolls her eyes a few times and takes out her purse and hands over her last bills to the clerk.

Is she running low on money? If she was, would she tell me? Should I ask her? Fuck, I’m thinking way too much into this.

By the time we get back to the lot where the skating is, Tessa’s ready to jump out of the car, but we need to change first. I change my clothes; she keeps her head turned and stares out the window the whole time. Afterward, I tell her “We can find a bathroom for you to change in.”

But she just shrugs. “I was just going to change in the car so I don’t have to carry my dress around.”

“No, there are too many people. Someone will see you undress.” I look around at the area of the parking lot where we are and it’s pretty empty, but still . . .

“Hardin . . . it’s fine,” she says with a little annoyance.

I should’ve stolen that stress ball I saw on my father’s desk last night. “If you insist,” I huff, and she tears the tags off of her new clothes.

“Can you help me unzip this before you get out?” she asks me.

“Erm . . . yeah.” I reach across the center console, and she lifts her hair up to allow me access to the zipper. I have unzipped this dress countless times, but this is the first time that I won’t be able to touch her as she slides it down her arms.

“Thank you. Now wait outside,” she instructs.

“What? It’s not like I haven’t—” I start to say.

“Hardin . . .”

“Fine. Hurry up.” I get out of the car and close the door. What I just said was rude, I realize. I open the door quickly and lean down. “Please,” I add and close it again.

I can hear her laughing inside the car.