Slow Play

by Monica Murphy

  And then it’s gone. The phone goes silent. I missed her call.

  “Damn it.” I sit up in bed and hit her number on the missed calls list, waiting anxiously as the phone rings. And rings. And rings.

  “Tristan?”

  Hearing her voice sends a rush of relief and lust and something else I don’t recognize coursing through me. I sink my head into the pile of pillows behind me and close my eyes, swallowing hard. “Yeah. Hey.”

  We’re quiet for a while and I can hear her breathing. I clutch my phone tighter, wishing she were lying next to me. But wishes are for fools and I’m the biggest one out there so I need to be thankful she’s at least talking to me.

  “I got your texts,” she finally says.

  “And you actually called me instead of texting back?” Shit, was that an asshole thing to say? Probably.

  “I wanted to hear your voice.” She hesitates. “I only just got them. I was out with Kelli.”

  Fucking Kelli. Always messing with my game.

  More like my lack of game.

  “We went to dinner and exchanged Christmas presents. She leaves tomorrow morning,” she continues.

  Damn it, my girl is by herself for fucking Christmas. I can’t stand it. I should hop on a plane tomorrow and go to her.

  “You’re spending Christmas alone then.” I take a deep breath. Tomorrow is the twenty-second. I can make it in time as long as the weather cooperates and I can find a plane seat.

  “Conrad is here with me.” That’s little consolation. “And we’re going to Steven’s for Christmas dinner.”

  Fucking Steven. Though I don’t hate him. He’s good to Alexandria. And he’s halfway in love with Kelli so I don’t have to worry about him. “I’m glad you have somewhere to go.”

  “Tristan, did you mean what you said in your texts?”

  My throat goes dry. “I meant every fucking word.”

  She’s quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you.”

  “I’m sorry I was such a dick to you that night,” I counter.

  “I should’ve told you the truth from the very beginning.”

  “I should’ve kicked Marc’s ass. He deserved it.” Just thinking about him makes my hand curl into a fist.

  She bursts out laughing. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too. So fucking much it’s killing me.”

  “Where are you?” she asks.

  I tell her about my parents’ so-called cabin in Vail. She tells me she’s been there before—of course. Alexandria and I have more in common than we originally thought. We make small talk for a while until finally I ask her a question, curious to see how she answers.

  “Angel, tell me what you want for Christmas,” I whisper.

  “I don’t want anything. I already have everything I want,” she whispers back.

  “There’s gotta be something you want. A new car?”

  “No.”

  “New shoes.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “A new purse.”

  “Now you’re just teasing me.”

  I smile. I am. “Tell me, angel. What do you want for Christmas that only I can give you?”

  She sighs, the sound going straight to my dick. I want her here, naked and wrapped all around me. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

  Now my curiosity is piqued. “Definitely.”

  “I want—love. Real, ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can’t-live-without-each-other love,” she admits, her soft voice reaching right inside my chest and putting a stranglehold on my heart.

  But I recognize those words. Wasn’t that long ago when I heard them either. “Did you just quote Carrie Bradshaw to me?” I ask.

  She’s laughing again. I think she might be crying too. “Yes. Oh my God. That you even recognize the words confirms what I’ve been thinking all along.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That we were made for each other.”

  The world has ended. Make the announcements. I’m playing Call of Duty with Conrad. Clearly, I’m beyond bored.

  It’s Christmas Eve and it’s just the two of us in the house. We ordered three pizzas around lunchtime so we’d have something to eat for dinner too, since the kitchen is pretty much devoid of food. Conrad told me he planned on playing an all-night Call of Duty fest so he wouldn’t be inclined to wake up early on Christmas morning and get depressed because he wasn’t with his family. He couldn’t afford a ticket home so that’s why he’s stuck here. I feel bad for him but hey, at least we’re in this together.

  I don’t feel so depressed over Christmas anymore. Tristan is coming back on the twenty-sixth. We’ve been talking regularly since the night I got his texts, though I haven’t heard much from him today. He did mention family obligations so I figure he’s off at some fancy restaurant eating a fancy meal that probably costs as much as my entire grocery budget for two months.

  I’m just glad that Tristan and I are communicating again. We’re being completely open with each other too. Long phone conversations late into the night, confessing our past, our secrets to each other. I told him about my parents. He told me about his. There are moments where our lives could’ve possibly intersected but somehow they didn’t. We have a lot in common what with the way we were raised, Tristan and I.

  But not anymore. I’m the poor girl and he’s the rich boy. And that’s okay. I can ease right into his life if I need to, though—whoa, I’m thinking way too far ahead but I can’t help it. Now that Tristan and I have cleared the air, I can see a future with him, and I think he can see one too.

  Our relationship isn’t perfect, but it’s ours. We’re working on it together. He’s all in. I know he is. And I’m all in too.

  I end up playing with Conrad for over two hours and he decimates me. To the point where my vision is blurry and my head is spinning. I stagger back to my dark bedroom with a bad case of motion sickness and I collapse on top of my bed, closing my eyes to ward off the dizziness.

  I’m so tired. I should brush my teeth. Wash my face. I shrug out of my sweater and toss it on the floor. Shimmy out of my leggings and kick them onto the floor too. I turn over on my side, drifting off into sleep when I hear a tiny ping.

  Another one.

  Then another.

  I sit straight up, pushing my hair out of my face. The ping comes again, the sound of something hitting glass. Like my window.

  Scrambling out of bed, I go to my window and pull the blinds back, peeking outside. There standing on the other side of the rosebush is Tristan, his arm back as he throws a piece of bark at the glass.

  Ping!

  Yanking up the blinds, I stand in front of the window, smiling at him as I open it. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  He flicks his chin at me. Oh, he looks so good. Clad in a thick navy blue sweatshirt he likes to wear and jeans, he tosses the rest of the bark he was clutching onto the ground. “I’m here to see you.”

  I lean against the windowsill, giddiness threatening to take over and make me act ridiculous. He came home early for me. He missed Christmas with his parents for me. “Why didn’t you knock on the door like a normal person?”

  “I thought this was more romantic.” He shrugs.

  My heart threatens to pound out of my chest. “Are you calling yourself a romantic?”

  His expression goes serious. “I’m a romantic only for you.”

  Oh. Wow. He needs to get in my bedroom. Now. “Want me to let you in?”

  “Whatever it takes to get to you, angel. I’ve been stuck in an airport for hours trying to make my way back here. If I have to hack through this fucking rosebush and crawl through your window to get you in my arms, I’ll do it.”

  He’s said those words to me before. I love hearing them again. “Meet me at the front door.” I shut the window and drop the blinds, then run to the door. I undo the locks, open the door and throw myself at Tristan. He catches me, his arms going around me, his mouth pressed against my forehead as
he hugs me tight.

  “You feel good back in my arms, Ali,” he whispers into my hair.

  I squeeze him, rub my face against the solid wall of his chest. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  He reaches for my face, his fingers slipping beneath my chin and he tips my head back. “I couldn’t stand being without you,” he says, his glowing gaze wandering all over my face, like he’s trying to take me in all at once. “I finally couldn’t take it anymore and went to the airport yesterday.”

  I frown. “Yesterday?”

  Tristan nods, smoothing back my hair from my forehead. “I had to wait on standby. That took forever. Once I finally got a seat, the flight was delayed because of weather. There was a blizzard.”

  “That sounds dangerous,” I murmur.

  “And frustrating. By the time I finally made it to San Francisco, I was so fucking relieved. Only to discover because of the delay, they gave away my seat on my connecting flight. So I had to wait on standby again.”

  “Oh, Tristan.” I can’t believe he did all that for me. Suffered through traveling woes just to be with me on Christmas.

  I remember saying when this first started between us that I wanted him to show me how he felt. His words were meaningless. He was always full of words. I wanted to see actions.

  What he suffered through to get to me says so much. More than his words could ever tell me.

  “Oh great, now I gotta deal with you two again?” Conrad appears in front of us, his hair a mess, his expression sleepy. He looks at Tristan. “What are you doing here? Are you Santa Claus or what?”

  “Ho motherfucking ho,” Tristan jokes as he claps Conrad on the shoulder. “Thanks for taking care of Alexandria for me.”

  Conrad’s eyes widen. “Yeah. Uh, sure man. No problem.” He looks at me. “Merry Christmas to you both.”

  “Merry Christmas,” I tell him as I pull out of Tristan’s hold and take his hand, dragging him back to my bedroom with me. The moment the door’s closed I’m pressed against it, Tristan’s hands on my waist, his mouth on mine. He kisses me long and deep, his tongue searching, his hands gripping me tight.

  I wrap myself around him and he lifts me up, his hands on my butt, his erection rubbing the aching spot between my legs. When he finally breaks the kiss to run his lips down my neck I’m breathless, overcome with the need to get him naked and in my bed.

  “You greeted me at the front door in just your underwear,” he murmurs against my skin.

  Oh. Crap. “I have a T-shirt on,” I point out weakly.

  “Yeah, but no pants. Wearing sexy black lacy panties too.” He lifts his head to smile at me. “You gave Conrad quite the show.”

  “Oh my God,” I whisper, hanging my head. “I’m an idiot.”

  “But you’re my idiot.” He touches my cheek and I tip my head back, smiling up at him. “You look adorable in those sexy black lacy panties.”

  I rub myself against his hard cock, driving both him and myself out of our minds. He has way too much clothing on. “I think I’d look even better out of them.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so.” I nod. “I think you should take them off me and see.”

  He raises a brow. “I’d love to do that.”

  “You would?”

  “Mmm, hmm.” He squeezes my butt, pulling me in as close as I can get to him. “Love to do just about anything to you as long as you’re naked.”

  “Only if you’re naked too,” I point out.

  “I can make that happen,” he says solemnly.

  “Really?”

  “Promise.”

  February 14th

  I’m a jittery, anxious mess, nervous as fuckity-fuck. To the point that everyone notices—and I mean everyone, and they’re all giving me endless shit for it too.

  “What the heck’s wrong with you? You’re acting like a freak.” Kelli asks.

  “You have restless leg syndrome or what?” That’s from Shep.

  “If you don’t stop pacing you’re going to wear a path in the carpet.” That original line is from Conrad.

  “Whatever you’re planning on doing, you’ll be fine.” Steven, that too-astute motherfucker reassures me.

  There were other comments but I’ll refrain from sharing them. I haven’t seen Jade or Lucy today, and I’m sure they would have commentary as well so it’s best that they’re off doing those Valentine’s Day things girls are so wont to do on this shitty, hateful holiday.

  I know this is the holiday of love and all that bullshit but I’ve never been a big believer. Always thought this day was created to make people feel either guilty or unlovable. I’ve felt both plenty of times, but not any longer.

  Now that Alexandria is in my life, I know without a doubt I’m loved.

  “Where is she?” I ask Kelli, my hand in my front pocket, jangling my keys again and again. She sends me a look, like she wants to kick my ass before she checks her phone.

  “She’s still at work,” she says, her gaze lifting to meet mine. “She’s off at five. You already know this.”

  I do, but I’m anxious. It’s four-forty-two right now. “Can’t she get off early?”

  “Why don’t you ask her if she can get off early?” Kelli retorts.

  “Hell no. That’ll look too obvious if it comes from me.”

  She rolls her eyes but otherwise says nothing. Just cuddles close on the couch with Steven while Conrad and Shep—yes freaking Shep—play Mario Kart.

  “Why are you even here?” I ask Shep when the races ends and Conrad kicks his ass. Again. “Shouldn’t you be off romancing Jade?”

  Shep throws down his control in frustration. “I need to go in a few minutes. Jade wanted me out of the house for the afternoon. I think she’s baking stuff.”

  “Nice.” Jade shows her love for Shep by making him cupcakes and cookies. He’s lucky he doesn’t have a gut because Jade clearly loves him a lot.

  “I think she’s making a chocolate cake. Her specialty.” He pats his flat stomach. “And my favorite.”

  “What are you getting her?”

  “I already gave her flowers.”

  “That’s it?” I’m incredulous. Their first V-day together and he only gets her flowers?

  “And some jewelry.” He shrugs. “I got her a white gold necklace with a diamond pendant.”

  I nod my approval. Jade will love it. She loves anything Shep does for her. Their relationship is solid. They’ve been together almost a year and I can see it lasting a lot longer.

  I see Alexandria and I lasting a long time too.

  The gambling business, on the other hand, is winding down. We’re all too busy with school, too distracted by our women to even want to keep the thing open. As of March first, the doors are closing for good.

  And not a one of us is filled with regret over that decision.

  “Oh, she’s leaving!” Kelli screeches, making me whirl around to find her watching me. She’s bouncing up and down on the couch, Steven shifting away from her. “She’ll be home in ten. I let her borrow my bug to drive to work.”

  Ah, shit. Time for me to spring into action. “Thanks Kel. I appreciate the updates.”

  “Anytime, Romeo. Good luck,” she smirks. They’re all smirking at me and I feel like a dumbass but then again, I don’t care.

  I’m about to make the grandest gesture of my life and I can only hope like hell it’s going to work.

  I walk into the house, immediately noticing the anticipation that’s practically humming in the air. I enter the living room to find Conrad, Steven and…Shep? Involved in an intense Mario Kart race. Kelli is lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone. The scene looks very normal. I’ve walked in on this very scenario multiple times. The only thing that’s throwing me off is Shep.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Your man just asked me the same thing.” Shep’s gaze never leaves the TV screen.

  “Tristan’s here?” I ask, glancing around. But he’s nowher
e to be found.

  “Oh. My. God!” Kelli practically screams. Why does she sound so pissed off?

  “He texted me. A few minutes ago,” Shep says hastily, his gaze still locked on the TV. Though this time he looks contrite. And his cheeks are kind of red.

  Hmmm.

  Tristan is coming to pick me up for dinner in about an hour. Just enough time for me to take a shower, pick out some sexy underwear and get ready. “I’m taking a shower,” I call as I walk down the hall toward my room. “Tristan will be here around six.”

  “Okay,” Kelli calls back to me. “Have fun!”

  I frown. Why is she telling me to have fun? I’m taking a shower. She’s so weird.

  Opening my bedroom door, I step inside to find…

  My bed covered in pink rose petals, formed in the shape of a heart. Candles scattered everywhere, on every available surface, their golden glow lighting up my room. Oh, and there’s Tristan, standing by the window, his expression nervous, his eyes sparkling with uncontained emotion as he watches me.

  “Wh-what is this?” I close the door behind me, then lean against it.

  “Surprise.” He holds his arms out wide. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

  I’m dumbstruck. Surprise is right. This was so unexpected. “You told me Valentine’s Day is a bogus holiday.”

  “It is.” He starts making his way toward me. “But I offered to take you to dinner anyway.”

  “Right.” My gaze locks on the bed, my heart racing. It had to have taken him so much time to make the heart. I want to take a picture with my phone to capture this moment forever but would that be cheesy? Intrusive? This is a private moment, one I don’t want to forget. “But all this?”

  He stops just in front of me. He looks extra good, but when does he not look extra good? Wearing one of those Henley shirts he’s so fond of, this one black—like his heart, he told me one time, which only made me laugh.

  Tristan Prescott has the sweetest heart I know.

  “You’re worth all this. Every bit of it.” He leans in and presses his mouth on mine, the kiss slow, soft. Hot. Wet. “I love you, angel.”

  My body grows warm at his words, his kiss. “I love you too,” I whisper.