Slow Play

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Slow Play Page 13

by Monica Murphy


  I want to laugh but I don’t. My friend is mad on my behalf and I appreciate her so much. I never have anyone run to my defense. It feels good.

  “I knew he was trouble from the moment I met him,” I reassure her, grabbing her shoulder and giving her a little shake before I let my hand drop. “He’s not worth your anger, trust me. I’m over it.”

  Kelli studies me, her mouth turned into a little frown, her gaze full of disappointment. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to be all butt hurt over him. I know you kind of liked him.”

  “I so didn’t like him. There’s nothing to like. He’s all flash and no substance, you know? Heartless and like a machine, always looking to find his next victim and use her up before he spits her out.” I press my lips together, shutting myself up a little too late. Bitter much? Ow.

  “Tell me how you really feel,” Kelli says, arching one brow. She touches my arm and moves past me. “Let me use the restroom before we go. Gimme a minute.”

  “No problem,” I tell her retreating back.

  Blowing out a harsh breath, I go to the island and snag the last mushroom pastry puff that Jade made. They’re delicious, though not as good as they were when they were warm and fresh out of the oven. Still, it’ll hold me over until I get home.

  Where I will drown my sorrows with a tub of ice cream, a giant spoon and a Sex and the City marathon on Netflix.

  Ugh. Men suck.

  “Alexandria.”

  I whirl around at the familiar shitty voice saying my name, narrowing my gaze when I see Tristan standing in front of me. Alone.

  “Go away.” I turn my back on him and continue leaning against the counter, ignoring the way my heart bounces around in my chest.

  “I thought you already left.” I can feel him approach and I stiffen my spine, hoping he can read my don’t touch vibes.

  “We’re leaving now.” I cross my arms in front of me, keeping my gaze straight ahead. I refuse to look at him.

  “Whose we?”

  “Me and Kelli.” He needs to go. Like, right now. I send him a quick glance before I look away. “Where’s your friend?”

  I did not mean to ask that. I sound like a jealous shrew.

  “If you’re talking about Toni, she left. Shep and Jade are helping her load up her car.” He moves so he’s standing directly in front of me and I tear my gaze away from his. I don’t want to look at him, stare into his pretty eyes, hear his pretty words. They’re meaningless. “You’re mad at me.”

  He’s so infuriating. Why can’t he not speak his mind for once in his life? “I’m nothing at you. I wouldn’t care if you started fucking her in front of us in the living room. You can do whatever you want. I don’t own you.” I dare to look at his face just in time to see pain flash in his eyes.

  Good.

  “I don’t owe you anything.” His words are like a knife to my heart and I start to walk away but he grabs my arm, keeping me from leaving. I keep my head bent, trying to ignore the way my skin sizzles from his touch. “Yet I feel like an asshole for what I did.”

  “You should.” I look into his eyes again, searching for the lies, the arrogance, the mocking. But none of it is there. The mask has dropped. He looks downright tortured.

  Exposed.

  He nods. “I do. I don’t understand why. What are you doing to me, Alexandria?” He says those last words in a harsh whisper and my resistance starts to crack.

  “Oh, no you don’t.” Kelli’s voice startles us both and we spring away from each other, Tristan releasing his hold on me. “Let’s go, Alex.” She takes my arm and starts to tug me away from him. I let her.

  “We need to talk,” he says.

  “You had your chance,” Kelli tells him.

  “Wait.” I stop her from dragging me to the door by digging in my heels. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

  Kelli sends me an incredulous look. “What are you saying? You’re insane,” she whispers.

  “You’re right. I am.” Oh God, I really hope I don’t regret what I’m about to do. “I know I shouldn’t, but I want to hear what he has to say. I’m curious.” How can I explain that I’m so drawn to him I can’t help but agree to whatever he requests? If I admit that I’ll sound like an idiot. One of those submissive girls who’ll do whatever the big macho man says.

  It’s not about that with Tristan and I. There’s more here. I think we’re just scratching the surface. And though it might be a mistake and I might be setting myself up for a lot of pain later, I need to hear him explain his actions.

  I need to figure out if he’s with me or if I’m alone in this…mess.

  She glares at him for a long, tense moment before returning her gaze to mine. “You shouldn’t,” she says loudly. “He’s not worth your time.”

  “You’re right. I know,” I whisper. “Just give me—ten minutes. Text me and I’ll meet you out at the car.” I reach out and grab her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Please?”

  “Everything is telling me I should just shove you into my bug and get us the hell out of here,” she says, her voice low. “But whatever. It’s your funeral. You’ve got ten minutes and then I’m gone.”

  With that, she walks away.

  Leaving me alone with Tristan.

  I’ve got her where I want her. I can’t even believe she’s going to listen to me. My biggest problem?

  I have no idea what I’m going to say.

  “So.” Alexandria crosses her arms in front of her, all defensive bristly girl. Not that I can blame her. I asked for this. “Talk.”

  I glance around the short hall that’s just off the kitchen. “I can’t talk to you here.”

  “You have nine minutes,” she reminds me as I hook my arm around hers and start walking. She follows, her body snug against my side and I pull her in as close as I can. “Where are we going?”

  “My room,” I tell her as I lead her up the stairs. I’m determined to get her alone, beg her for…what? Forgiveness? I don’t say I’m sorry. Ever. I’m not sorry for what I’ve done, what I’ve said, who I am. This is me, flaws and all. If whoever’s in my life can’t accept me, then I don’t need them.

  Seeing Alexandria sitting on that couch rendered me stupid. So fucking beautiful with her hair falling past her shoulders in gentle waves, cheeks rosy, eyes so fucking blue, like the sky on a perfect spring day. Wearing a white oversized sweater that somehow made her look virginal—like an angel.

  Not for me. Those are the three words that ran on a continuous loop inside my head. She’s not for me. I’m not worthy. I wouldn’t treat her right, no matter how hard I tried. So I went for the one I knew I was worthy of—that horny chick Toni. She was all over me. I could’ve invited her to stay and she would’ve said yes. Would’ve guaranteed myself a blowjob at the minimum, a night of heavy duty fucking at the absolute maximum.

  But all I could see and feel was Alexandria watching me the entire time I halfheartedly flirted with Toni. The disappointment on Alexandria’s face was clear. The disgust. Kelli was shooting daggers at me with her eyes and I could feel every single one of them piercing my skin, reminding me that I’m an asshole. A cold hearted, careless dick who doesn’t deserve a good girl.

  No matter how badly I want that good girl.

  I hated myself at that moment. Had opened my mouth to let Toni know she needed to go on her merry way when Shep broke us up and practically shoved Toni out the door, Jade following after them. It saved me from having to tell her no and I appreciated that. But I figured I’d be in trouble with Shep and Jade later.

  What else is new?

  “I really don’t want to go to your room,” Alexandria says, yanking her arm out of my grip. We’re only halfway up the stairs and I turn to look at her, fear swirling in my gut when I realize she’s headed back down. As if she’s going to walk right out of my life and never return.

  “Shit,” I mutter, chasing after her. I snag onto the hem of her sweater, grabbing a handful of soft fabric as we both land on the bottom of
the steps. I scoop her up into my arms—though seriously, I have no right—and pin her against the wall, the both of us breathing hard, our chests rising and falling in tandem. Together. “Hear me out.”

  She shakes her head, keeping her face averted. “I should go.”

  “I’m a dick.”

  “Yes, you are.” She still won’t look at me.

  “I’m also drunk.”

  “That doesn’t excuse your behavior.”

  I close my eyes and breathe through my nose, trying to get my jumbled thoughts together. Having her so close makes it hard. Makes my dick hard too. Her scent surrounds me, wild and sweet. Her soft hair tickles the side of my face. Hell, her entire body is soft as it molds to mine and I’m consumed with the need to touch her. Kiss her. Take her.

  Make her mine.

  “You have five minutes,” she murmurs. “And I’m not going up to your room. So you better get to talking.”

  My eyes pop open and I reach for her, my fingers curling around her chin. “Look at me.”

  She shakes her head once.

  “If all I’m getting is five minutes of your time, the least you could do is look at me when I talk to you.” I stroke her chin with my thumb. Softly. Slowly. A shuddering breath leaves her as she turns to face me, her eyes wary.

  “You make me want things I shouldn’t want,” I admit. Her brows knit in confusion and I know I’m on the wrong track. “You make me feel things I’ve—never felt. I think about you all the damn time and I don’t do that about any girl.”

  Her brow relaxes and interest flares in her eyes. “Go on,” she urges softly.

  Am I really going to tell her the truth? “I tried to pretend that you didn’t matter. After you ran out on me at Starbucks, I told myself I didn’t want to be interested in you, so I shut you out. Avoided you as best I could.”

  “You did a really good job,” she says dryly.

  I let go of her chin, sliding my hand across her cheek, up into her hair. “But when I found out you were coming to Jade’s party, all I could think about was you. Knowing you were here tonight, in my house, and Jade wanted us gone just about fucking killed me. I wanted to see you. Hear your voice, smell your perfume, make you laugh.” I cup the back of her head, my fingers tangling in the soft strands of her hair.

  She stares up at me, those luminous blue eyes seeming to eat me up. “You didn’t even look at me when you first walked into the room. That…hurt.”

  “It hurt to fucking see you,” I admit.

  “Why?” she whispers.

  I ignore her question. How can I answer when I don’t know what to say? “I don’t understand why I’m so fixated.” I lean in, pressing my forehead to hers. I see her waver in how her shoulders relax, her hands going to my chest, resting there lightly.

  Just her touching me twists me up inside. I don’t fucking get it.

  “You have a funny way of showing your fixation.” Her voice is small, full of irritation. I still don’t have her convinced. “And you have three minutes left.”

  Three minutes to make this right. Three minutes to prove that I want more from her. What exactly do I want? I don’t know how to ask. I warned her before that all I do is take. I don’t know any other way. If I had my choice I’d drag her up to my bedroom, lock the door and push her onto the bed. Fall on top of her and never let her go for the rest of the night.

  But is that all I want? One night? That’s all I should want. That’s all I can allow myself to want.

  Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and count to three.

  His forehead is pressed against mine, his eyes tightly closed, a low exhale falling from his perfect mouth. He’s so close we’re sharing the same air, I can practically count the outrageous number of thick black lashes that rim his eyes and it would take nothing for our mouths to meet. A little shift here, a lift of the chin there and we’d be kissing.

  But I can’t let him kiss me. Not when I’m still mad at him. I’m so tense waiting for his next words I feel like I could shatter. Fully prepared for him to say something terrible. Awful.

  Like usual.

  Slowly he opens his eyes and lifts his forehead from mine, licking his lips, his gaze never leaving me. “I like you,” he says in that sexy low rumble.

  Words fail me. What in the world does he mean?

  “Have you ever met someone you felt an instant connection to? Like, the minute your eyes met, you couldn’t look away no matter how much you tried? You go to bed at night with them on your mind and when you wake up you wonder how they slept? And throughout the day you hope like hell you catch a glimpse of them but when you don’t, you’re disappointed?”

  My throat is so dry it’s hard for me to swallow.

  “And when you finally do run into them, you’re so damn excited, you’re dying to talk to them, look at them—touch them. But then you realize…that maybe you want something they can’t give. Or worse, they don’t feel the same way. That maybe you’re overreacting and wanting it all when you never want it all. You’re afraid to want it all.” He pauses, clears his throat and drops his head so he’s not looking at me any longer. “So you shut off those feelings because you don’t want to be rejected. You’d rather move through life completely untouchable.”

  My knees are shaking at his sweet yet sad words. Is he really talking about me? He’s afraid he could be rejected? I find it hard to believe that the player of all players Tristan Prescott is saying this.

  I run my hands up his chest, curling my fingers around his shoulders, needing him to finish but unable to say a word of encouragement. What if I’m wrong? What if he’s talking about something else entirely? Or maybe he’s saying a bunch of bullshit to get me naked.

  I don’t know what to think.

  “O-one minute,” I whisper, my voice shaking and my heart in my throat. I’m probably being mean but oh my God, he’s been so incredibly mean to me tonight. I still can’t believe the way he flirted with Toni while blatantly ignoring me. I don’t care how sweet his words are, he acted like an asshole.

  Tristan lifts his head, his blue eyes turbulent, like a sudden violent storm. “That’s exactly how I feel about you. You scare the fuck out of me, Alexandria.”

  We stare at each other, the house eerily quiet, the only sound the thundering of my heart in my ears. He shifts closer, his questioning gaze dropping, lingering on my lips for the briefest, most intense moment I think I’ve ever experienced. His gaze returns to mine, and my mouth tingles in anticipation. I don’t give him my answer with words. I merely close my eyes, part my lips.

  And wait for him.

  He’s there in a second, his mouth on mine, his hand curling in my hair, his other hand on my waist, his hot fingers slipping beneath my sweater to touch my bare skin. I gasp at first contact, my lips parting further and he slips his tongue inside my mouth, deepening the kiss.

  He tastes faintly of beer. Mint. Tristan. My hands move to the back of his head as if I have no control over them and I clutch at his hair, pushing my body close to his. I can feel him, hard and thick pressing against the fly of his jeans and an answering throb pulses between my legs. My butt is also buzzing, which is…odd.

  Oh. It’s my phone.

  I break the kiss and reach for my phone, pulling it out of my back jeans pocket. A frustrated growl sounds from deep in Tristan’s throat as I check the glowing screen.

  Your ten minutes are up. Get your ass out here.

  Glancing up, I study Tristan’s tortured expression, his hair a mess from my hands, his cheeks ruddy from booze and our kiss, I can only assume—or maybe from his confession. It took a lot of guts for him to say what he did. But is it enough? I’m not ready to forgive him yet. I’ve learned by example, considering that was my mother’s problem—she forgave my father far too easily and look where it got her? Prison.

  “I have to go,” I whisper shakily.

  “Alexandria,” he starts but I shake my head, pushing at his chest so he has no choice but to back away from me
.

  “I have to, Tristan.” I smile tremulously. “Good night.”

  His brows furrow and he looks so confused I almost feel sorry for him. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “I have to work.” And go out with Steven.

  “After work?” He grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together. “I want to see you.”

  “I—” I swallow hard. “I have plans.”

  His expression grows dark. “With who?”

  My phone buzzes and I glance at it. Another text from Kelli.

  Hurry up. It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here!

  “I have to go. Kelli’s waiting for me.” I push past him and head for the kitchen, thankful no one is there so I have to make small talk or whatever. I’m practically running, my hand landing on the door handle when he grabs me from behind, his hands at my waist, turning me around so I have to face him.

  “Whatever you’re doing tomorrow night, cancel your plans,” he demands. “We need to finish this.”

  “There’s nothing to finish,” I tell him. “I heard what you had to say.”

  He stares at me as if I’ve lost my mind. “And that’s it? That’s your reaction?”

  “What do you want me to do? Fall at your feet? Tell you you’re forgiven? Strip off my clothes and beg you to fuck me?”

  “Well…” He scratches the back of his head. “Yeah.”

  I start to laugh. This guy is unreal. “Words are meaningless when there are no actions backing them up. Prove to me that you feel that way. Don’t just tell me, show me.”

  Before he can say another word I open the door and dart into the garage, spotting the bright green VW bug on the other side of the street, Kelli behind the wheel with the engine running. I pick up speed, about to cross when Tristan grabs hold of my hand, turns me toward him and kisses me.

  Oh God, his lips should be designated lethal weapons. They obliterate all of my brain cells the moment they touch mine every single time. I tear my mouth from his and pull out of his hold. “You don’t play fair,” I cry, glancing over my shoulder at where Kelli sits waiting for me in her car.

 

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