After We Collided (After, #2)

by Anna Todd

When she joins me on the other side of the car, she looks… cute. She always looks beautiful and sexy, but something about the giant sweatshirt, hat, and gloves makes her look even more innocent than usual.

She’s so goddamned cute.

I need a realistic story, where there are real problems, more than one fight, and even a breakup. A real one. People hurt each other and keep coming back for more… including me, of course. I realize this now.

“Shut up.” He presses his lips against mine with extreme caution. They barely touch mine as he uses both hands to cup my cheeks. His tongue grazes along my bottom lip, and I lose my breath. I open my mouth slightly to try to get some air, but there doesn’t seem to be any—there’s nothing, only him. I tug at his shirt to bring him off of his knees, but he doesn’t budge as he continues to kiss me slowly. His torturous pace is driving me mad, and I move from my spot at the end of the bed down to meet him on the floor. Both of his arms wrap around my waist, and mine do the same to his neck.

His gaze is harsh, but the way his lips are parting slowly lets me know he won’t stop me when I tug at his hair to bring his face down to mine. If it weren’t for his height, this would be much easier. Hardin sighs into the kiss; tightening his grip around my waist, his fingers move to my hips and back around me again. My tears are mixed with his harsh breathing into the most lethal combination of love and lust. I love him a thousand times more than I lust for him, but the two mix and intensify as he removes his mouth from mine to trail his warm lips down my jaw and neckline. He bends at his knees to get better contact with my skin, and I can barely stand on my feet as he bites down softly just above where my collarbone would show if I were as thin as society wanted me to be.

“What hurts the most?” I ask, assessing his swollen face again. “Rejection,” he timidly answers.

“I wish I had fallen in love with someone who could love me back,”

“There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of merit or sense.”

“I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve.”

“But people themselves alter so much, that there is something new to be observed in them forever.”

My adoration of him is somehow still growing with time. Even though I always feel like there couldn’t possibly be any more room inside of me to love him, there always is.