by D. Kelly
The only problem is when I open the door, it’s not a pizza delivery guy. No, I can’t be that lucky. It’s a pizza delivery girl and not just any girl either.
“Hi! Did you order a . . .?” Her words trail off as she looks up from the sticker on the box. This is the worst time not to be wearing any damn clothes. “Tristan,” Kelly says curtly, even if her eyes betray her anger. They rake over every inch of my skin before meeting my eyes. This is the perfect example of why one-night stands are a bad idea. “If I’d have known this was your pizza, I would’ve spit in it.”
“Someone sounds angry,” Bexley says, walking up the path to our door.
Kelly shoves the pizza at me, and I almost lose my towel. She snatches the money out of my hand, eyes flaring with rage. “Don’t think you’re getting change. It’s the least you owe me. And you.” She turns her attention to Bex. “Don’t believe anything he says. You don’t mean anything to him, and he won’t call you the next day or ever again.”
Bex raises a subtle brow at me but slides past Kelly before inching up on her tiptoes and kissing me. Her lips are soft and taste like tropical fruit. When I part my lips to taste more of her, she pulls away. Damn. The kiss was short but filled with passion that shot down to my toes. We’ve never kissed like that before, but now I’m wondering why not. “Babe, what am I going to do with you?” Her hand slides seductively down my chest, and my heart skips a beat. I don’t know what’s gotten into her tonight, but I’m curious to see where she wants to go with it.
“Sorry, Tris was a bit of a brute, but I’ve tamed him. Thanks for the pizza.” Bex moves her hand back to the center of my chest and pushes me until I’m backing up. She closes the door and locks it behind her before bursting into a fit of laughter.
That was hot and wrong all at the same time.
“What in the world has gotten into you, Bexley Marie Scott?”
“I might have had a few cocktails at dinner—strong ones. What kind of pizza did you get?” It’s a rhetorical question since she’s already peeking inside the box I’m still holding. “Oh, Tris, you got my favorite!”
As she walks toward the kitchen for plates, I put the pizza down and go throw on some sweats and a T-shirt. When I come back, she’s comfortable on the couch with her feet tucked under her and a piece of pizza on a plate.
“Didn’t he feed you?”
“Calm your rage, He-Man. He fed me an incredible dinner, but you know me. I drank, and now I need a snack. How come you got dressed?”
Her quizzical gaze throws me off. She must be drunk. Why didn’t that asshole walk her to the door if she was this buzzed? “Are you a pod person? I’m pretty sure my Bex wouldn’t want my junk on our couch, even if it was wrapped in a towel.”
“True, I don’t, but if I was going to let anyone have their junk on our couch, it would be you.”
She tosses a rogue mushroom into her mouth and moans in appreciation. I’m not sure I’ve seen her like this before, but I like this version of her. Bexley rarely lets herself have enough alcohol to lose all her inhibitions. I’d rather she do it with her friends though, and not with a date she hardly knows.
“I’m going to guess there will be a fourth date. You’re in a great mood.” I lean back with my plate of pizza and face her.
“Uh, no, date three was the end. He was a good sport, though, and he appreciated my honesty so much he still wants to be friends.”
“I’m sorry. What was the final nail in his coffin? Too much styling gel?” I’m not sorry at all, but I do feel bad for her all the same.
She giggles. “He had grandpa tassels, striped socks to match his tie, and he was an entitled prick, but that part I can get past. I think it’s a defense.”
He’s not the first guy she’s ditched for the tassels. “I swear, Bex, as much as I adore you, having you in my life has given me some serious confidence issues.”
She places her plate on the table before responding. “You’re the perfect guy, Tris, and you have no clue how much I regret dating Adam because now I can’t grow up and marry you one day.”
I’m at a serious loss for words, but one thing I know for sure is that she’s going to be hungover tomorrow. She’s never this candid unless she’s had more than her body can handle.
“You also never answered me earlier. Would it be so wrong to want to date my future husband?”
I knew she was going to come back at me with that question, but I never expected it to hurt so much to answer her. “No way, but keep in mind, we’re still young. You have years ahead of you to find your husband, and when you do find him, you absolutely should date him. If you’re trying to find him in seven dates, I think you need to date him for at least seven years before you get married.”
Her chestnut eyes brighten. “That can’t happen. I want to have babies before I’m thirty-two.”
Babies . . . of course she wants to have babies soon. Bexley hates that she’s an only child. I put my plate on the table and tug her into my side. “All your dreams will come true when the time is right. Maybe you need to stop looking and let your husband come to you.”
Her eyes flutter closed, and she hums under her breath. “Maybe you’re right. All this dating is becoming exhausting. I just don’t want to be alone anymore.”
“You’re never alone. I’m always going to be right here.”
She tucks in closer to me and grips my shirt. “Until you find another girlfriend and you get all commanding with her in the bedroom. Damn, that has to be so fucking hot.”
I’m biting my lip to hold back my laugh. “Is that something you’re into, Bex? Being told what to do?”
“Seems sexy as hell, but I’ve never done it to know for sure.”
Damn it. How much stuff is she missing out on? Her desire to have all these firsts with the one I sort of understand. The fact she’s convinced she’ll know him when she dates him worries the fuck out of me. Bex doesn't see the bigger picture. She could make it to date eight or date eighty-eight, and this guy could still break her heart. It kills me to think of her being crushed like that, but she doesn’t seem the least bit concerned. With all the break-ups she’s witnessed involving her friends, especially me, you’d think she’d be a bit more cautious.
“Can you promise me something, Bex?”
“Anything . . .” she says on a yawn.
“The next guy you date, give him all seven, no matter what.”
“That’s a hard promise.”
“Please? For me?”
She moans as my fingers weave through her hair. “Okay. For you.”
Bexley falls asleep in my arms quickly, and I begin to formulate a plan. Adam gave me permission a long time ago to date her if I wanted to, and I never wanted to risk crossing those boundaries before, but after tonight . . . I’m not sure there’s anything I want to do more than date my best friend.
My head is pounding, and my breath is god-awful. I vaguely remember Tristan carrying me to bed. When I open my eyes, it’s still dark outside, but my bladder doesn’t care.
I tiptoe out into the hall and pause as I pass Tristan’s room. Even though his light is off, the unmistakable sound of him jacking off carries into the hall. His soft moans and his lube-slicked hand sliding against his cock—I can practically envision it. This is such an invasion of privacy, but our walls are thin. I wish I had the courage to open his door and slide down on top of his slicked skin and ride him until dawn. I wonder if it would be a welcome surprise or if he’d turn me away?
His cries become louder, and I quickly move toward the bathroom. Listening outside his door isn’t okay.
After relieving myself and brushing my teeth, I go back to my room and lock the door behind me. Sex is supposed to be good for headaches, so I pull out my vibrator and lube, and take off my clothes.
As I work myself over with my vibe, I imagine what Tris must have looked like while he was getting himself off. I’m picturing his abs tightening as he inched close
r to his release. I’ll bet his baby blues glazed over with the sweetest kind of ecstasy. And as he came all over his stomach, his eyes would have fluttered closed with pleasure.
My orgasm crashes through me with the sexy images in my mind. I wonder if he ever thinks of me when he comes.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lulls me from my sleep. Tristan greets me with a smile as I stumble into the kitchen. God love him, he even makes me a cup of coffee just the way I like it.
“How’s your head this morning?”
“It’s been better,” I mumble, as I take the first heavenly sip.
He takes the seat across from me at the table and drinks from his favorite mug. “How much did you drink last night?”
“Too much. Three or four of these amazing fruity cocktails. I couldn’t even taste the alcohol, and it hit all at once.”
He frowns. “Why didn’t that asshole walk you to the door?”
Oh, man. Angry Tris first thing in the morning isn’t good. “He wasn’t with me. Bradley got called into the office, and he had his driver bring me home. He offered to walk me in, but I told him it wasn’t necessary, and it wasn’t.”
“This time,” he mutters angrily.
“Are you mad at me? About last night? I know I said some pretty inappropriate things, and I’m so sorry. The alcohol got to me, and I . . . well, I don’t really have an excuse, but I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
Tristan’s eyes widen, and he practically chokes on his coffee. “I’m not mad at all, and there’s nothing you could ever do that would make me uncomfortable. Do you remember your promise to me last night?”
I made him a promise?
“About giving the next guy seven full dates?” he prompts, and it comes back to me. Damn it. I did promise him, and I can’t take that back.
“Um, I remember now.”
“Good.” He smiles and then stands. “I have to get ready for work, but can you and Rita meet Adam and me at Just an Illusion tonight after work?”
I love that bar, and he knows it. “I’ll be there, and I’ll ask Rita. I don’t know what she has planned since it’s the weekend and all.”
Tristan rinses his cup in the sink and kisses the top of my head on the way out of the kitchen. “Bex, one more thing . . . don’t accept any dates from anyone until you and I have a chance to talk tonight. I’ll explain why later. Just trust me and promise, okay?”
I draw an X over my heart with my fingers. “Cross my heart.”
“Thank you.”
Rita and I arrive at the bar a little after eight. Tristan called a few minutes ago and said he and Adam are on their way now.
Rita practically bounces with excitement as we walk into the bar. “I’m excited to finally be meeting the elusive Adam.”
We slide into a booth, and a waitress greets us immediately. This place always has great service. “Welcome to Just an Illusion. I’m Allie, and I’ll be your waitress.” She hands us menus, but we don’t need to open them. “Can I get you something to start, or would you like a few minutes to look over the menu?”
“I’ll have a chocolate martini,” Rita says, and that sounds much better than the white wine I was about to order.
“I’ll have the same. Our friends will be here in a minute, so can we also get a Hendrick’s on the rocks and a Jameson neat?”
“You got it. Would you like any appetizers?”
“Nachos,” Rita and I both reply in unison, and Allie laughs.
“They are the best in town. I’ll be back with your drinks in a flash.”
“Tell me about Adam,” Rita says when Allie leaves.
“Well, first of all, back to your original comment—I’d hardly call Adam elusive. You’ll probably love him at first sight. He’s got red hair like Prince Harry and a slight dusting of freckles across his nose. He was cute when we dated, but he’s grown up to be quite a manly man.”
Rita eyes me skeptically. “If he’s such a catch how, come you haven’t given him a second chance?”
The snort escapes before I can stop it. “No one gets a second chance.”
“You are the strangest person I know, but I swear if one day you meet the guy who passes all of your tests, I might become a believer and convert.”
“It will happen. You just sit back and watch.”
Rita’s eyes widen as she looks toward the door. “They’re here. Oh my God, Bexley, why didn’t you tell me he’s a walking orgasm?”
“The Prince Harry reference wasn’t enough for you?”
“I didn’t think you were actually serious!” she hisses before pasting a smile on her face when they approach.
Tristan scoots in next to me, and Rita mouths, “Thank you,” to him. He gives her a subtle nod as Adam introduces himself before sliding in next to her.
“Did you get the nachos ordered?” Tristan whispers the question as he leans in close. Goose bumps break out over my arms, and I’m thankful for the dim lighting. Who knew something as mundane as nachos could sound so freaking seductive?
“What do you think they’re whispering about?” Rita asks Adam with a flirty smile.
Adam flashes her a salacious grin. “Food. With them, it’s always about food.”
Tristan shrugs. “Guilty, but the food here is great. You can’t really blame us.”
“The eye candy is pretty good too,” Rita adds shamelessly. Adam subtly inches closer to her. Let the games begin.
Allie returns with our drinks and the nachos. “Jameson goes to?”
“Me.” Tristan holds out his hand, and by default, she gives the gin to Adam.
“I’ll be back to check on you in a bit. If you need something sooner, just flag me down.”
“She’s so cute.” Rita sighs as Allie walks away.
Adam doesn’t let the moment pass him by. “So are you. Tell me about yourself, Rita.”
The two of them begin chatting animatedly. I’m not even sure they’re aware we’re still here. It’s getting louder in the bar, and tonight’s band is warming up, making it harder to hear. Tristan scoots as close as he can get so we can hear each other.
“How long before they ditch us?” he asks with an easy smile.
Rita likes to play somewhat hard to get at first, but that doesn’t mean she won’t leave and make Adam take her to dinner or something. “Thirty minutes?”
Tristan chuckles. “Adam is halfway through that drink already; I give it fifteen, tops. Did you drive?”
I nod.
“Good. I’ll just have this drink, and then I’ll be fine to drive us home.”
“It’s okay; I can stop drinking. I had enough last night anyway. You should have fun tonight.”
He looks at me with a heated gaze, but that can’t be right. This martini is already getting to me.
“I’d prefer it if you enjoyed yourself. Last night was interesting, and I have some things I’d like to talk to you about. You do better with awkward conversations if you’ve had at least two drinks.”
“But . . .”
He cuts off my protest with that fucking tone that hits me in all the places it shouldn’t. “I’ll drive, Bex.”
“Okay.” My acquiescence has nothing to do with me wanting to drink and everything to do with me wanting to know what the hell has gotten into him.
While we eat our nachos, we watch Rita and Adam. I’m a bit envious, if I’m being honest with myself. I’ve been on tons of dates, more than anyone should probably go on, but I don’t think I’ve ever been that relaxed. It seems so natural with them, and I wonder if it’s because eventually, they may end up together or if it’s because they’re completely comfortable with the potential one-night stand they both know is coming.
Allie comes back, and Tristan orders me another drink and water for us both. Rita and Adam both decline a second drink; they’re getting ready to make their move.
Rita kicks me lightly under the table, and I give her a thumbs-up, obs
cured from Tris and Adam’s view. She flashes me a beaming smile before whispering in Adam’s ear.
“You two cool if we get out of here?” Adam asks, but he’s already standing, and Rita is scooting out of the booth behind him.
I laugh and wave while Tris and Adam say their goodbyes.
My second martini arrives and looks even more decadent than the first.
“How was work today?” Now that Rita and Adam are gone, I somehow feel like we can talk freely.
Tris turns toward me in the booth, which makes it easier for me to see him while we talk. “It was amazing. We figured out the glitch.”
“Tristan, that’s incredible!” My arms wrap around him instinctively. It’s not like we’ve never shared hugs before, but neither of us moves to pull away. Since we kissed last night, he seems … flirtier, and I don’t mind one single bit.
His mouth ghosts over the shell of my ear, and I suppress the urge to moan. What has gotten into me? This is Tristan, my best friend. “Finish your drink, and let’s go home. I have some things I need to discuss with you.”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I down the rest of my martini, hoping that by the time we get home, I’ll be feeling the full effects. It’s not enough alcohol to get me drunk, but I’ll enjoy the buzz as long as possible.
Tristan shakes his head. “You didn’t have to pound it, but I applaud your eagerness.” He tosses some money onto the table and reaches for my hand to help me up.
Once we’re in the car and on our way home, I’m overcome with the sense that after tonight nothing is ever going to be the same between us again.
I just wish I could tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
The ride home was abnormally quiet. The air between us sparks with anticipation and need. In the past twenty-four hours, I’ve realized how much Bexley means to me. I’ve finally admitted to myself that I no longer want to be only her friend. This is ultimately her call, but if it were solely my choice, I’d hop on her dating roulette wheel and never get off.