After We Fell by Anna Todd
“No way. I’m not staying here with him. I don’t even know him!”
“Neither do I,” I counter.
“You know him better than I do; he would be your father-in-law someday if you weren’t such an idiot.” Landon’s words hit me harder than they should. Father-in-law? The title sounds odd when I repeat it in my mind . . . while I’m staring at this gross lump of man on my couch.
“I want to see her,” I plead.
“Who . . . Tess?”
“Yes, Tes-sa,” I correct him. “Who else?”
Landon starts playing with his fingers like a nervous child. “Well, why can’t she come here? I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to stay with him.”
“Don’t be such a pussy, he’s not dangerous or anything,” I say. “Just make sure he doesn’t leave the apartment. There’s plenty of food and water here.”
“You sound like you’re talking about a dog . . .” Landon remarks.
I rub my temples in annoyance. “Dude might as well be at this point. Are you going to help me or not?”
He glares at me, and I add, “For Tessa?” It’s a low blow, but I know it will work.
After a second he breaks, and nods. “One night only,” he agrees, and I turn away from him to hide my smile.
I don’t know how Tessa will react to me ignoring our “space” agreement, but it’s only one night. One short night with her is what I need right now. I need her. Phone calls and text messages are sufficient enough during the week, but after that nightmare I had, I need to see her more than anything. I need to confirm the fact that her body holds no marks that were put on it by anyone other than myself.
“Does she know you’re coming?” Landon asks me as he follows me into the bedroom, where I search the floor for a T-shirt to pull over my bare torso.
“She will once I arrive, won’t she?”
“She told me about you two on the phone.”
She did? That’s really unlike her.
“Why would she tell you about us getting off over the phone . . . ?” I wonder.
Landon’s eyes go wide. “Whoa! What! What! I wasn’t . . . Oh God,” he groans. He tries to cover his ears, but it’s too late. His cheeks turn a deep red, and my laughter fills the bedroom.
“You have to be more specific when you’re talking about Tessa and me, don’t you know that by now?” I grin, relishing the memory of her moans coming through the line.
“Apparently I do.” He scowls and regroups. “I meant that you two have been talking a lot on the phone.”
“And . . . ?”
“Does she seem happy to you?”
My smile disappears. “Why do you ask?”
Worry spreads over his features. “I’m just wondering. I’m a little worried about her. She doesn’t seem as excited and happy about Seattle as I assumed she’d be.”
“I don’t know.” I rub my hand over the back of my neck. “She doesn’t sound happy, it’s true, but I can’t tell if it’s because I’m an asshole or because she doesn’t like Seattle as much as she thought she would,” I answer truthfully.
“I hope it’s the first. I want her to be happy there,” Landon says.
“So do I, sort of,” I say.
Landon kicks a dirty pair of black jeans out from under his foot.
“Hey, I was going to wear those,” I snap and bend down to grab them.
“Don’t you have any clean clothes?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Have you done any laundry at all since she left?”
“Yes . . .” I lie.
“Uh-huh.” He points to the stain on my black T-shirt. Mustard, maybe?
“Shit.” I pull the shirt off and toss it back onto the floor. “I don’t have shit to wear.” I pull out the bottom drawer of the dresser and let out a relieved breath when I spot a stack of clean black T-shirts in the back.
“What about these?” Landon points to a pair of dark blue jeans hanging in the closet.
“No.”
“Why not? You never wear anything other than black jeans.”
“Exactly,” I retort.
“Well, the only pair of pants you seem to have to wear is dirty, so—”
“I have five pairs,” I correct him. “They just happen to be the same exact style.” With a huff, I reach past him into the closet and pull the blue jeans off of the hanger. I hate these fucking things. My mum bought them for me for Christmas, and I vowed to never wear them, yet here I am. For true love or something. She’d probably swoon.
“They’re a little . . . snug.” Landon bites down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing.
“Fuck off,” I say and raise my middle finger, then finish shoving shit into my bag.
Twenty minutes later we’re back in the living room, Richard is still asleep, Landon is still making obnoxious remarks about my fucking tight jeans, and I’m ready to go see Tessa in Seattle.
“What should I tell him when he wakes up?” he asks.
“Whatever you want. It would be quite funny if you fucked with him for a little while. You could pretend you’re me or that you don’t know why he’s there.” I laugh. “He would be so confused.”
Landon doesn’t see the humor in my idea, and he basically pushes me out the door. “Be careful driving, the roads are slick,” he warns.
“Gotcha.” I hoist my bag over my shoulder and leave before he can make another mushy-ass remark.
DURING THE DRIVE, I can’t help but think about my nightmare. It was so clear, so fucking vivid. I could hear Tessa moaning that asshole’s name; I could even hear her nails running along his skin.
I turn the radio up to drown out my thoughts, but it doesn’t work. I decide to think of her instead, of memories of us together, to stop the images from haunting me. Otherwise this will be the longest drive of my entire life.
“Look how cute those babies are!” Tessa had squealed while pointing to a platoon of squirming little beings. Well, only two babies, actually. But still.
“Yeah, yeah. So cute.” I rolled my eyes and dragged her along through the store.
“They even have matching bows in their hair.” She was smiling so big, and her voice did that weird high-pitched thing that women do when they’re around small children and some hormone or other kicks in.
“Yep,” I said and continued behind her down the narrow aisles at Conner’s. She’d been searching for some specific cheese she needed to make our dinner that night. But babies overtook her brain.
“Admit that they were cute.” She beamed up at me, and I shook my head in defiance. “Come on, Hardin, you know they were cute. Just say it.”
“They. Were. Cute . . .” I responded flatly, and she pressed her mouth into a hard line while she crossed her arms over her chest like a petulant child herself.
“Maybe you’ll turn out to be one of those people who only thinks their own kids are cute,” she said, and I watched as a dawning recognition quickly stole her smile away. “That is, if you ever want kids.” she added somberly, making me want to kiss away the frown on her beautiful face.
“Sure, maybe. Too bad I don’t want them, though,” I said, trying to drill the statement permanently into her head.
“I know . . .” she said softly. Soon thereafter, she found the item she was so avidly searching for and dropped it into the basket with a dull thud.
Her smile still hadn’t returned by the time we were waiting in the checkout line. I looked down and gently nudged with my elbow. “Hey.”
When she looked up at me, her eyes were dim, and she was obviously waiting for me to speak.
“I know we agreed not to talk about kids anymore . . .” I started as she focused her eyes on the floor. “Hey,” I repeated and set the basket on the floor next to my boot. “Look at me.” Both of my hands covered her cheeks, and I pressed my forehead against hers.
“It’s okay. I wasn’t really thinking when I said that,” she admitted with a shrug.
I watched as she glanced aro
“Well then, let’s agree again not to bring up children. It does nothing but cause problems between us,” I said and gave her a quick kiss to her lips, followed by another. My lips lingered on hers, and her small hands pushed into the pockets of my jacket.
“I love you, Hardin,” she said when Grumpy Gloria, the cashier we’d laughed about many times, cleared her throat.
“I love you, Tess. I will love you enough that you won’t even need children,” I promised her.
She turned away from me—to hide her frown, I know. But right then I didn’t care, because I figured the question was settled, and I’d gotten what I wanted.
As I continue to drive, I begin to wonder: Has there ever been a time in my life when I wasn’t a selfish prick?
chapter eighty-six
TESSA
As I’m plodding from my room to the couch with a copy of Wuthering Heights in hand, Kimberly says with a beautiful wide smile, “You’re in a funk, Tessa, and as your friend and mentor, it’s my responsibility to get you out of it.” Her blond hair is straight and glossy, and her makeup is too perfect. She’s one of those women that other women love to hate.
“Mentor? Really?” I giggle, and she rolls her heavily shadowed eyes.
“Okay, maybe not so much of a mentor. But a friend,” she corrects herself.
“I’m not in a funk. I just have a lot of course work to do, and I just don’t feel like going anywhere tonight,” I say.
“You are nineteen, girl—act like it! When I was nineteen, I was out all the time. I barely showed up for any of my classes. I dated boys . . . many, many, boys.” Her heel taps on the concrete floor.
“Did you, now?” Christian cuts in as he enters the room. He’s unwrapping some sort of tape from around his hands.
“None as wonderful as you, of course.” Kim winks at him, and he laughs.
He grins. “That’s what I get for dating such a young woman. I have to compete with still-fresh memories of college-age men.” His green eyes shine with humor.
“Hey, I’m not that much younger than you,” she says with a smack to his chest.
“Twelve years,” he points out.
Kimberly rolls her eyes. “Yes, but you’re a young soul. Unlike Tessa here, who behaves as if she’s forty.”
“Sure, honey.” He tosses the used tape into a wastepaper basket. “Now, go on and enlighten the girl about how not to behave during college.” He gives her one last smile, smacks her on her ass, and disappears, leaving her grinning from ear to ear.
“I love that man so much,” she tells me, and I nod along, because I know it’s true. “I really wanted you to come along with us tonight. Christian and his partners just opened a new jazz club downtown. It’s beautiful, and I’m sure you’d have an amazing time.”
“Christian owns a jazz club?” I ask.
“He invested in it, so he didn’t actually do any work,” she whispers with a sly smile. “They have guest musicians on Saturdays, sort of an open-mic-type thing.”
I shrug. “Maybe next weekend?” The last thing I want to do right now is get dressed and go out to any type of club.
“Fine, next weekend: I’m holding you to that. Smith doesn’t want to come either. I’ve tried to convince him, but you know how he is. He lectured me on how jazz is nothing, compared to classical music.” She laughs. “So his sitter will be here in a few hours.”
“I can watch him,” I offer. “I’ll be here, anyway.”
“No, honey, you don’t have to.”
“I know, but I want to.”
“Well, it would be kinda great, and so much easier. He doesn’t like the sitter, for some reason.”
“He doesn’t like me either.” I laugh.
“True, but he talks to you more than he does to most people.” She looks down at the engagement ring on her finger and then up to Smith’s school portrait hanging over the mantel. “He’s such a sweet boy . . . just very guarded,” she says quietly, almost as an afterthought.
A doorbell sounds, breaking the moment.
Kimberly looks at me quizzically. “Now, who the heck would be coming here in the middle of the afternoon?” she asks, as if I could possibly know the answer.
I stand there, looking at a really cute picture of Smith on the wall. He’s such a serious little kid. Like a little engineer or mathematician, almost.
“Well . . . well . . . well . . . Look who it is!” Kimberly calls from the door. When I turn to see what she’s talking about, my mouth falls open.
“Hardin!” His name falls from my lips without a single thought, and an immediate surge of adrenaline at the sight of him propels me across the room. My socks make me slide on the hardwood floor, nearly causing me to fall on my face. Once I’m steady enough to continue, I latch myself on to him, hugging him tighter than maybe I ever have before.
chapter eighty-seven
HARDIN
I nearly have a goddamned heart attack when Tessa stumbles and starts to fall, but she quickly collects herself and hurls herself into my arms.
This is sure as hell not the reaction I had expected.
I thought I would be granted with an uncomfortable “hello” and a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. But man, was I wrong. Very wrong. Tessa tightens her arms around my neck, and I bury my head in her hair. The sweet scent of her shampoo fills my senses, and I’m momentarily overwhelmed by her presence, warm and welcoming, in my arms.
“Hi,” I finally say, and she glances up at me.
“You’re freezing,” she remarks. Her hands move to my cheeks, instantly heating them.
“It’s freezing rain out there, and it’s worse back home . . . my home, I mean,” I correct myself. Her eyes quickly dart to the floor before looking back up at me.
“What are you doing here?” she practically whispers to me, trying her best to shield the question from our company.
“I called Christian on the way up,” I inform Kimberly, who continues to faux-glare at me, a smirk playing on her painted lips.
Couldn’t stay away, could you? she mouths to me behind Tessa’s back. That woman is the biggest ballbuster around; I’m not sure how Christian puts up with her, and willingly at that.
“You can stay in the room across from Tessa’s, she can show you,” Kimberly announces and then disappears.
I detach myself from Tessa and give her a little smile.
“I—I’m sorry!” Tessa stutters, looking around the room and blushing. “I don’t know why I did that. I-it’s just nice to see a familiar face.”
“It’s good to see you, too,” I tell her, trying to free her of her embarrassment. It’s not like I let go because I didn’t want to hold her. Her lack of confidence always has her interpret things in negative ways.
“I slipped on the floor,” she blurts out, then flushes again as I bite down on the inside of my cheek, trying my best not to laugh at her.
“Yeah, I saw it.” I can’t help the small chuckle that escapes from me, and she shakes her head, laughing at herself.
“Are you really staying?” she asks.
“Yes, if that’s okay with you?”
Her eyes are bright and a lighter shade of blue-gray than usual. Her hair is down, slightly wavy and unstyled. Not a trace of makeup mars her complexion, and she looks absolutely fucking perfect. The number of hours that I’ve spent picturing her face in front of me did not adequately prepare me for the moment when I’m finally able to look at her again. My mind can’t possibly catch all of her, all the details . . . the freckle just below her neckline, the curve of her lips, the brilliance of her eyes—it’s fucking impossible.
Her T-shirt hangs loose on her body, and those hideous fluffy cloud pants cover her legs. She keeps adjusting her shirt, tugging it down, playing with the collar; she’s the only girl I’ve ever seen who can manage to wear these ugly-ass clothes to bed but somehow
“What changed your mind? And where’s the rest of your stuff?” Tessa asks as she leads me down the hallway. “Everyone else’s rooms are upstairs,” she informs me, unaware of my perverted thoughts. Or maybe she’s not . . .
“This is all I brought. It’s only for one night,” I tell her, and she stops in front of me.
“You’re only staying one night?” she says, her eyes searching my face.
“Yeah, what did you think? That I was moving here?” Of course she did. She always has too much faith in me.
“No.” She looks away. “I don’t know, I thought a little longer than that, though.” And now this is where it gets awkward. I knew it would.
“Here’s the room.” She opens the door for me, but I don’t step inside.
“Your room is just across the hall?” My voice breaks, and I sound like a damned fool.
“Yeah,” she mutters, looking down at her fingers.
“Cool,” I remark dumbly. “You’re sure it’s okay that I’m here, right?”
“Yes, of course. You know I missed you.”
The excitement on her face seems to vanish as the memory of my previous actions—being an asshole in general, and refusing to come to Seattle specifically—looms unspoken over our heads. I’ll never forget the way she ran to me, literally, when she saw me at the door; there was such emotion on her face, so much longing, and I felt it, too, more than she did. I’ve been insane without her.
“Yeah, but the last time that we saw one another in that apartment I was basically kicking you out.” I watch her face change as my words remind her of what took place. I can literally see the fucking wall rising up between us as she gives me a fake smile. “I don’t know why I brought that up,” I say and wipe my wrist across my forehead.
Her eyes move to another room; her room. Then turning to the door we’re standing in front of, she says, “You can put your stuff in here.”