After We Collided (After, #2) by Anna Todd Read Online (FREE)
“I think our phones got switched. I have yours and I think you grabbed mine by accident.” He holds my phone out in his palm. “I was going to wait until the morning, but yours just wouldn’t stop ringing and ringing.”
“Oh” is all I say, I walk over and open my purse. Sure enough, Trevor’s phone is sitting on top of my wallet.
“I’m sorry . . . must have grabbed yours in the car,” I apologize and hand it to him.
“It’s okay. I’m really sorry for waking you up. You’re the only girl I know who looks just as beautiful when she wakes up as she did—”
A loud banging at the door cuts him off, and the sudden noise infuriates me.
“What the hell is this? Party in Tessa’s room?” I yell and stomp to the door, ready to yell at whatever hotel employee is likely here to reprimand me for the noise Trevor made, ironically by making more noise than he did.
Just as I reach for the door, the noise gets even louder, which shocks me into stillness. I then I hear it: “Tessa! Open this damn door!” Hardin’s voice booms through the air, as if no barrier at all stood between us. A light flips on behind me, and I see Trevor’s face pale with real fear.
Hardin finding him in my room won’t go over well, regardless of what was really going on.
“Hide in the bathroom,” I say, and Trevor’s eyes widen.
“What? I can’t hide in the bathroom!” he exclaims, and I realize how ridiculous that idea is.
“Open the fucking door!” Hardin yells again, and then he starts kicking it. Repeatedly.
I look at Trevor again before opening the door, trying to memorize his handsome face before Hardin mutilates it.
“I’m coming!” I yell and open the door halfway to find a fuming Hardin, dressed in all black. My drunk eyes wander, and I notice that instead of his thick boots, he’s wearing plain black Converses. I’ve never seen him in any shoes except his boots. I like these new shoes . . .
But I’m getting distracted.
Hardin pushes the door open and blows right by me, going for Trevor. Luckily, I grab his shirt and manage to stop him, somehow.
“You think you can get her drunk and come into her fucking hotel room!” Hardin screams at him and tries to surge forward. I know he isn’t trying as much as he could because in that case I would surely be on the floor, not holding him by his thin shirt. “I saw that light flip on through the peephole—what were you two doing alone in the dark here!”
“I wasn’t . . . I—” Trevor begins.
“Hardin, stop it! You can’t go around beating people up!” I shout and tug at his shirt.
“Yes . . . I can, though!” he growls.
“Trevor,” I say. “Go back to your room so I can talk some sense into him. I’m sorry for his crazy-ass behavior.”
Trevor almost laughs at my word choice, but one look from Hardin silences him.