Slow Play

by Monica Murphy

  “I have a paper due. And I’m supposed to include a real, actual book in the bibliography.” He holds up a book. “The professor is trying to teach us about the value of living without the Internet.”

  Kelli snorts. “As if. Funny you should appear. Alex and I were just talking about you.”

  I kick her under the table. Hard. She mutters a curse and sends me a glare as I smile serenely at Tristan, who is blatantly checking me out.

  I feel warm under his gaze and blatantly check him out in return. He has on jeans and a navy blue hoodie. His hair is windblown and his jaw is covered in scruff. He screams sexy. My oversized black sweater and ratty jeans don’t scream sexy. More like they scream I don’t care. Well, the sloppy bun on my head and lack of makeup also scream I don’t care.

  Great.

  “Talking about me, huh?” He smiles, his gaze directed on me. “That’s promising.”

  “She wanted to know if we’d ever…”

  I kick Kelli again and this time she curses. Loudly. “Shit, Alex, that hurts.”

  “Shut up,” I mutter.

  Tristan starts to laugh. “That was a mistake,” he tells me, his gaze never straying. “The kiss. No offense, Kel.”

  “None taken,” she answers quickly.

  “You should go out tonight,” he says as he stuffs his hands into his pockets. “My treat.”

  “The drinks are half off,” Kelli says. “That’s why he’s offering.”

  “I shouldn’t.” I wave a shaky hand toward the statistics book. “I’m nowhere close to being finished.”

  “I’ll help you.” He pulls out the chair closest to me and settles in, then tugs the book toward him. “I took this class.”

  “You fail it?” Kelli asks.

  “I got an A,” he says easily, snatching the paper out of my hands and glancing it over before lifting his gaze to mine. “I can help you. Both,” he adds.

  “That would be great,” Kelli gushes as she scoots her chair closer. “Alex and I are totally lost.”

  “You don’t mind?” he asks me, his voice quiet.

  I stare into his blue eyes, the earnest expression on his face. Is he trying to make up for his earlier slip at the party? Helping me with this shitty class would be awesome, but will I be able to concentrate with him sitting this close? What if he wants to keep helping us? I mean, why would he want to torture himself with statistics. Maybe he’s some weirdo who actually likes math.

  “I don’t mind,” I finally say, my voice soft. “We really need the help.” Heavy emphasis on the word we.

  “I’d be glad to help,” Tristan says. “But you have to come with us to Ladies’ Night afterward.”

  “He likes to pick up on all the ladies,” Kelli adds.

  “Shut up, Kel,” Tristan mutters. “What do you say, Alexandria?”

  I like how he says my full name. I like how he looks at me. I shouldn’t. I should tell him to go fuck himself and leave. But I need help with this stupid class…

  “Okay.” I lick my lips, notice the way his eyes track my every move. Pressing my thighs together, I lean forward and focus on the open textbook. “But no promises until you teach me this latest formula. I seriously don’t get it.”

  “I’ll teach you,” he says confidently. “I’m good at math, particularly stats.”

  He is one of those math weirdoes. Ugh. “I’m sure you could teach me a lot of things,” I say sarcastically, surely stealing his line. A few guys have said that to me a time or two before.

  “I could.” His lips curve in the barest smile and my heart flutters. “Watch me.”

  Somehow, I was able to concentrate as Tristan went over the chapter Kelli and I were stuck on. After he broke down a few examples, showing us step by step how to get to the answer, I think I actually got it. When I did one on my own—all the while Kelli was too busy texting someone to bother actually trying to learn—he actually touched me when I got it right.

  “Good job,” he’d said as he rested his hand over mine for the briefest, most heart pounding moment of my life. That quick touch had nearly given me a heart attack.

  Stupid, I know.

  The minute we finished our homework, I escaped, promising Kelli and Tristan I would meet them at The Advantage, a bar not too far from campus. I’d never been there. Since arriving in Santa Augustina, I’d kept my head down and my mind focused. School, studying, home. Despite the financial downfall that destroyed my family, I had a trust that was earmarked for my education that no one could touch, thanks to my grandma.

  But the money was dwindling. Upper education is expensive and for the first two years, I went to a private college. I switched to a state university, found a house that came with three other roommates and secretly sold off my designer purses on luxury consignment websites. I make a killing doing that. I have a lot of Louis Vuitton and Chanel bags in storage. Designer clothes and shoes too, but I’m holding on to some of that.

  Why, I don’t know. Not like I have anywhere to wear that stuff. It’s hard enough, trying to figure out what to wear to the bar. I didn’t want Tristan to think I’m trying to impress him. I didn’t want him to think I’m a total slob either.

  So I chose my tightest jeans and a fitted black sweater, along with knee high black leather boots I bought at Saks on a shopping excursion with my mother.

  Longing filled me as I twirled this way and that in front of the full-length mirror I picked up at Wal Mart for cheap. I miss her. I miss Dad too. Despite how awful they were to me in the end. When everything first went down, I desperately wished for a sibling. So I could have someone to share the burden with me.

  Now though, I’m over it. I wouldn’t wish what I went through on anyone.

  I walk to the bar since it’s not that far from my house and of course, the first person I see is Tristan, standing outside on the front steps, his hand cupped around his mouth as he lights a cigarette.

  Ew.

  “You smoke?” I say in greeting as I clomp up the steps. I’m sort of pissed.

  And disappointed. I mean really? Smoking? How…gross.

  Like I should care.

  He snuffs out his lighter and shoves it in his pocket, the cigarette dangling from his sexy mouth. I should not find the smoking thing hot. Absolutely not. But he looks like a total bad boy standing outside with the wind blowing through his hair, wearing a gray thermal long sleeved shirt and jeans. No jacket. The fabric molds to his shoulders and chest almost lovingly and my gaze lingers on his torso for a beat too long.

  “You walk over here by yourself?” He sounds just as pissed as I feel. “I don’t like that.”

  My spine stiffens at his tone. “I’m literally three blocks away.” I point in the direction I came from before turning to face him once more. He’s sucking on that cigarette as if his life depended on it, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth before he inhales yet again.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he says once he pulls the cancer stick out of his mouth. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out walking alone.”

  “I’m not a defenseless female,” I tell him, resting my hands on my hips. He’s infuriatingly sexy. His worry for my safety should not make me feel protected. More like I should be angry because he believes I’m helpless.

  “Never said you were.” He inhales so strongly I swear I hear the crinkle of the paper burning on his cigarette. Yikes.

  “You okay?” I peer at him, noting his agitation.

  “I only smoke when I’m nervous.” He flashes me a quick smile as he pulls the cigarette from his mouth, pinches off the burning end with his fingers and then tosses it into a nearby trash container. “Ready to go inside?”

  Without bothering to protest, I enter the bar as he holds the door open for me, dying to ask him why he’s nervous. He steps directly behind me, his hand going to my lower back as he guides me through the crowded bar. His fingers seem to burn through the fabric of my thin sweater and I wish I could shake him off but that would be rude. Instead, I turn to
face him, his hand streaking over my side and across my middle with the action, making me shiver.

  “W-where’s Kelli?” I ask, my voice shaky.

  He leans in close, his lips parted. I see the flash of a white, square mint in his mouth and I wonder when he popped it. “What did you say? I can’t hear you.” His lips are right at my ear, so close I can feel his warm breath.

  Someone walks by us, jostling me right into Tristan and we collide, my hand coming up to rest against his chest. His heart seems to throb beneath my palm, steady and fast and I look up at him, no doubt offering him a glimpse of the surprise and wonder that I know is filling my gaze. “I asked where Kelli is,” I yell at him.

  He smiles. God, he’s so warm. And attractive. Scarily attractive. He smells faintly of soap, the outdoors and a whiff of cigarette smoke. It’s an intoxicating combination, as surprising as that is. His hand somehow returns to my lower back, fingers splayed, palm pressed firmly. I try to step away but there’s nowhere else for me to go unless I want to run directly into his chest.

  This is clearly a no-win—or win-win—situation.

  “She texted me. Said she was running late but she’ll be here soon.” He dips his head, his mouth at my ear again and I swear I feel his lips brush against my skin. “She didn’t tell you?”

  I drop my hand from his chest and reach for my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans. Yep, there’s a text from Kelli, begging for forgiveness and saying she was running late.

  She’s going to have to do some major begging, leaving me here with Tristan alone.

  “You want something to drink?” he asks. I nod. “Like what?”

  “Surprise me,” I tell him, yelling so I can be heard over the crowd.

  His hand falls from my back and he starts to walk away but I grab him, my fingers circling around his thick wrist. He turns to look back at me in surprise, his gaze dropping to where I touch him before returning to mine.

  “Just don’t drug my drink,” I warn him, feeling foolish for saying the words out loud. Not that I think he would do that, but I don’t really know him. And there’s enough stories floating around campus about guys taking advantage of girls by slipping something in their drinks without their knowledge, let alone all of the national stories regarding the same topic.

  He turns his hand up, flexing his wrist and his fingers curling so I have no choice but to watch as my hand slides into his. “I would never do that to you,” he yells solemnly.

  I didn’t realize someone could actually yell in a solemn manner but Tristan just proved he can.

  “Thanks,” I say, giving a tug so he releases his grip on my hand.

  “Stay right here,” he commands before he turns and heads for the bar.

  I watch him go, noticing the girls in the vicinity who watch him too. He stops and talks to one girl, then another, then a group of guys who all yell his name as he approaches and I realize he’s extremely popular. Everyone knows him and he greets them as if they’re all life long friends. He draws people like a magnet, girls and guys alike as if his magnetism can’t be contained.

  A pretty brunette approaches him, her long, cascading waves looking straight out of a shampoo commercial. She wraps her arms around his neck, presses her body fully against his and kisses him straight on the mouth.

  He doesn’t push her away either.

  I curl my hands into fists as I watch them, trying my best to fight off the waves of jealousy that threaten. I shouldn’t care. I’m not here for Tristan, to impress Tristan, none of that. He’s not good for me. I’ve had enough toxic relationships to last a lifetime. I don’t need to add another one to the mix.

  “Who’s the fucking brunette?”

  I recognize Kelli’s voice and almost cry with relief when I realize she’s standing right next to me. For a moment there I thought I imagined her saying that. “I don’t know,” I tell her, my gaze never leaving Tristan and the girl. She’s still kissing him and the bastard is letting her. “She just sort of grabbed him and hasn’t let go.”

  “What a waste of my time,” she mutters, shaking her head. “Now I’ll have to get my own beer.”

  “What are you talking about?” I turn to look at her.

  “Oh, you didn’t figure it out yet? Tristan asked me to wait a solid fifteen minutes after you got here before I made my appearance.” My mouth drops open in shock and she smirks. “I told you he was an asshole. I think he believed he could convince you to drop your panties in less than fifteen minutes. I don’t know if that speaks to his extraordinary convincing skills or the fact that he fully planned on getting you to drop your panties in less than fifteen minutes, so I’m not sure if you should be insulted or not.”

  “Are you serious?” I look at him one more time—that brunette has sunk her claws into him, without a doubt because she’s still gripping him tight—and my vision goes hazy. A little red on the edges.

  God, I could murder him with my bare hands right now. This guy is so freaking arrogant.

  “As a heart attack. He wants you. I’ve seen him in action before. Once he sets his sights, he’ll do anything to get you.”

  “Well, he’s not going to. Get me,” I add when she just looks at me with her doubt-filled eyes. “What, I’m serious! I’m not interested in him like that.”

  Kelli’s admission just cured me of that particular problem, thank you very much.

  This girl is like an octopus. She won’t keep her damn hands off me. “Layla, please. You need to stop.”

  She appears to have no intention of stopping. In fact, she’s nestled her body even more firmly against mine, her hands still looped around my neck. She smiles up at me though I swear her eyes are going to roll in the back of her head at any given moment. She’s drunk as hell.

  The very last type of person I should be hanging out with. Not to mention the fact that her tits smashed against my chest and the way she’s trying to dry hump my limp cock is doing absolutely nothing for me.

  “Take me to the bathroom, Tris,” she murmurs, her lips coming perilously close to mine. They’re slicked with a dark red lipstick that looks downright scary, not sexy. Halloween happened a few nights ago. This girl needs to get out of costume. “Let me give you a blowjob.”

  Well. Nothing like a blunt offer to make my night far more interesting, though I’m not taking her up on it. “I don’t think so,” I start, resting my hands on her hips to push her away.

  Her grip tightens in my hair, tugging on it so hard it hurts. “Come on. You liked it the last time I sucked your dick.” She licks her lips, the dark lipstick glistening in the dim light of the bar. I can’t even remember the last time she sucked my dick. Hell, she could be lying for all I know. “You know you love it when I deep throat you.”

  She probably thinks what she’s saying is turning me on. She would be wrong. “Not tonight,” I say firmly, grasping her by the hips and setting her away from me. Her hands fall from my neck, the disappointment on her face crystal clear. She looks crushed. “Though I always appreciate the offer,” I say to soften the blow.

  Layla glares. “You’re missing out on a good thing.”

  “It’s the chance I’ll have to take,” I tell her as I scan the room, looking for Alexandria. I don’t see her anywhere. Definitely not where I last left her. Damn it, I knew it was a mistake, leaving her alone. Some other asshole is probably picking up on her.

  “You’re not even looking at me.” She grabs a handful of my shirt and tugs, making me glare at her. “You’re an asshole.”

  “You’re only just now figuring this out?” I lift a brow.

  She shoves at my chest with surprising force, sending me a few steps backward. “I hope your dick falls off,” she mutters before she stalks away.

  I hear feminine laughter from behind me and I wince, fully prepared to find Alexandria standing there when I turn but it’s not her.

  It’s freaking Kelli.

  “Bravo,” she says with a slow clap. “You’re messing up left and right
tonight and I only just got here.”

  I ignore her comment. “Where’s Alexandria?”

  Kelli crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Why do you call her Alexandria? She goes by Alex.”

  “That’s a man’s name.” I grimace. “And she is the farthest thing from a man.”

  Kelli laughs. “Well, she’s also pissed at you for tricking her.”

  “I didn’t trick her.”

  “I told her you asked me to wait fifteen minutes after she showed up.”

  Fucking. Great. “Why’d you go and do that?” Nothing is going right tonight. “I thought we were friends.”

  “I got here a little early and it’s so cold outside, I didn’t want to wait so I came in. Figured you two wouldn’t see me considering how packed it is in here.” She shrugs. “I found Alex right away, all by herself. Then I saw you with some hot chick slobbering all over your face. Needless to say, I figured your potential game with Alex was ruined.”

  “Shit,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “Where is she?”

  “Talking with some guy.” She nods in the direction of where I can only assume Alexandria is standing. I whip my head to the right, spotting her immediately. Damn, she’s beautiful. She’s talking animatedly with some short dude, and when she tips her head back and laughs, I feel a pang in my chest.

  Somewhere in the vicinity of my ice cold heart.

  Fuck. I’d love to hear that laugh, see that smile that’s curving her lips aimed right at me.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Kelli murmurs, reaching out to grab my arm and stop me from leaving. “She’s mad. You let that girl maul you.”

  “I had no choice. That chick attacked me,” I tell her, yanking my arm out of her grip. “I need to go apologize.”

  “You? Apologize?” Kelli shakes her head. “You don’t do that.”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” I mutter as I walk away from her, headed straight toward where Alexandria is chatting up that dude. He’s barely taller than her, with close-cropped dark hair and dark eyes, a big ass smile on his face that I can’t blame him for because hell yeah. He’s talking to the hottest girl in the entire bar. Of course, he’s grinning from ear to ear. I’d be doing the same damn thing.