Slow Play
Crazy but true.
“So. Tristan.” The naughty cop rests her hand on my chest, her other hand reaching behind her and pulling out—a pair of handcuffs? Oh, boy. “Up for some fun later?”
I swear I hear Alexandria laugh and I jerk my head in her direction to see her fingers covering her smiling mouth. Naughty cop’s fingers slide over my bare chest—the shirt I’m wearing is open practically to my stomach—and I return my attention to her, taking a step back so her hand falls away. “I don’t do handcuffs on the first date,” I tell her.
Naughty cop—damn it, I wish I could remember her name—rests her hands on her hips and mock pouts. “This isn’t our first date.”
I wince. Yeah. I’m that asshole who does a girl and doesn’t remember it. I’m supposedly living the dream? “How about I don’t do handcuffs ever.”
“Smart policy,” Alexandria murmurs, making me smile.
Making naughty cop fume.
“Have fun with your little angel then,” she says snidely, sending us both a disgusted look. “At least with me, you know I put out.”
I watch her walk away, her hips swishing, that little black skirt she’s wearing obscenely high. Was that the smart choice, letting her go? Hey, she’s a sure thing and Alexandria looks like she’d rather kick me in the balls than sneak off to the bathroom for some quality naked time.
“You could chase after her you know,” she says, her droll voice making me whip back around to face her.
“What do you mean?”
“I saw the drool form in the corner of your mouth.” Alexandria smiles tightly. What, is she jealous? No freaking way. “And you know she puts out so…”
“I’m not interested in her.” I take a step closer to her, pleased that she doesn’t run away. This close, I can see the delicate way her nose turns up, right at the tip. The perfect shape of her lush lips. Her skin is flawless. Her hair looks so soft I want to touch it and her scent…
I want to bury my face in whatever spot she’ll let me and just inhale her.
She raises a brow. “You sure about that?”
“Definitely sure.” I let my gaze travel all over her, noting the gentle curve of her tits—yeah, they’re not very big but that’s okay—the nipped in waist and those long, long legs make up for it. Her body type isn’t what I’m normally attracted to but I’m all for changing it up.
“Am I supposed to assume you’re interested in me instead?” She holds her red cup up in front of her chest, like some sort of defense mechanism but that’s not going to stop me. I’m not letting her go so easily.
“You picked up on that, hmm?” I lean toward her and take a deep breath, closing my eyes for the briefest moment. Wild flowers. Heady and sweet. Fucking delicious.
When I open my eyes I find her watching me like she thinks I’ve lost my damn mind. “What were you doing?”
“You smell amazing,” I tell her. I’m being one hundred percent honest here, not my normal mode of operation but this girl is the complete opposite of who I usually go for. I’m running on pure instinct.
“So you just sniffed me.”
“Well…” My voice drifts. Don’t tell me she’s pissed. “Yeah.”
“You’re not my type,” she says bluntly.
Ouch. “You’re not my type either, sweetheart, but there are always exceptions to the rules.” I move in for the kill, slipping my arm around her waist. She startles when I settle my hand on her hip, her skin warm through the thin fabric of her costume and I feel the thin string that must be the waistband of her panties.
Just like that, my cock twitches to life.
“What do you think you’re doing?” She pulls out of my grip.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I try to put my arm around her again but she bats it away with her free hand. “What the hell?”
“You really think you can just sidle up to some random girl and feel her up?”
Has she never been to a college party before? “You’re not random. We already met.”
She laughs. “I am so random. And so are you. We don’t fit.”
“Do we need to fit to fuck?” I ask incredulously.
The shocked, disgusted look on her face is almost comical.
Almost.
“You’re a complete jackass,” she declares, right before lifting her cup of beer and…
Dumping it all over my head.
“…definitely not one of your finest moments, my friend,” Shep finishes just before he and Gabe collapse into fits of laughter.
The bastards.
I glare at them. We’re at our usual breakfast haunt. Monday morning, bright and early, the place packed with college students like us. We’re sitting in a booth near the back, all three of us having nine o’clock classes so we tend to meet weekly.
Lucky me, they’re mocking my ass over what happened at the Halloween party.
“What did you say to her anyway?” Gabe asks once he’s composed himself. Shep’s still chuckling and I throw him a dirty look before I answer.
“I told her we didn’t need to fit to—fuck,” I say deadpan, causing them to start laughing all over again. “Listen assholes, it’s not that funny.”
“The look on your face and how pissed you are over this makes it pretty fucking funny,” Gabe says, shaking his head. “Why would you say that to a girl as hot as Alex?”
“Better not let Lucy hear you say that,” Shep warns, nudging Gabe in the ribs.
Gabe shrugs. “My relationship with Lucy is solid. She’s the one who’s in my bed every night. She has nothing to worry about.”
I contain myself so I don’t make a face or say something rude. He’s so sprung over Lucy it’s almost painful to witness. He gets this dreamy look in his eyes every time someone even mentions her name.
It’s pathetic.
“I wouldn’t describe Alexandria as hot,” I say, silencing them both. They stare at me as if I’ve gone insane. “She’s…beautiful.”
The slow smile I see forming on Shep’s lips makes me want to smack it off. “Uh, oh. You have a thing for Kelli’s friend?”
“Didn’t you make out with Kelli?” Gabe asks.
I practically growl with frustration. “One time. One mistake. It lasted all of five minutes, if that, and then we realized real quick that way led to nothing but madness.”
“And you think we’re dramatic.” Shep rolls his eyes. “You’re the one making out with Jade’s best friend and getting beer dumped on your head by her new friend.”
“Kelli and I kissed months ago,” I stress. “I barely remember it. It was nothing.” Truly, it was. I have no interest in Kelli like that. Hell, she wanted Gabe for a very brief moment in time. Girl was pretty much flailing after getting dumped by her loser ex-boyfriend.
Perfect example of why relationships suck. They never end well, and when they do? Someone—or the both of them—end up spiraling out of control.
“Were you trying to pick up Alex?” Gabe asks.
“Is it Alex or Alexandria?” I don’t know if I like thinking of her as an Alex. That’s a man’s name. And she’s the farthest thing from a man.
Gabe shrugs as Shep answers, “She usually goes by Alex. That’s what Jade told me.”
“Do you know her?” I look at Gabe.
“I talked to her last night for a while.” He smirks. “After the beer-dumping incident.”
Traitor. I want to ask if she said anything about me but I keep my mouth shut.
“She asked what your deal was,” Gabe adds.
So she did talk about me. I can’t help but like this. He says nothing else and neither do I. All three of us shovel our mouths full of food, then take sips of coffee. Shep chugs a glass of ice water and still we don’t say anything.
Finally I can’t stand it any longer.
“What did you tell her?”
Gabe wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I told her you were a horn dog with a capital H and D and that she should steer clear.”
&
nbsp; Great. “You made me sound like an asshole.”
“You are an asshole.” Gabe points at me. “I’m not going to piss off the girls by allowing you to snare one of their friends into your temporary trap. Jade and Lucy both said she’s really nice. Kelli mentioned that Alex doesn’t talk much about herself, but she seems lonely and she likes her. They want to bring her into the fold. You’re not allowed to touch any girl within the fold.”
“I touched Kelli,” I point out.
“And look how well that worked out.”
I say nothing because Gabe’s right. Kissing Kelli had been a mistake. Luckily enough, she felt the same way and it hadn’t made things weird between us. “This is going to turn into an I-want-what-I-can’t-have situation, you know.” I probably shouldn’t have admitted that but what’s done is done. Denial is not a part of my vocabulary. Them telling me Alexandria is off limits?
Makes me want her that much more, despite the beer dumping incident. Despite her disgust with me, and the stupid things I said. I regret nothing, but what I said to Alexandria to make her dump her warm, foamy beer on my head?
I regret it. It was callous and cold and I can’t blame her for what she did.
Gabe and Shep send each other a look before they turn their attention to me. “We know what that’s like,” Shep says slowly.
“Right,” I snort, taking another sip of my still hot coffee.
“It’s exactly how I felt when I started to fall for Jade,” Shep adds.
My appetite disappears. Just like that.
“I denied myself from going after Lucy for way too long,” Gabe says, shaking his head. “We played a real back and forth game. Drove me insane with wanting her.”
Last thing I want to hear. I shove my plate away from me. “I’m done.”
The matching incredulous expressions they share would’ve been amusing any other time. Not right now. None of this shit they’re telling me is funny. “But you barely ate,” Shep points out. He sounds oddly like my mother, the freak.
“Lost my appetite,” I mutter as I toss my napkin onto my plate. “I need to go. See you guys later?”
“Yeah,” they both say as I slide out of the booth and make my escape out of the diner.
The cold November air smacks me in the face when I walk outside, reminding me that winter is indeed coming. I huddle my face into my hoodie as best as I can and hurry across campus, heading to class. Girls smile and nod at me as I pass by and I smile and nod back. My reputation follows me everywhere I go and normally I love it. I strut like a fucking peacock, wanting the girls to flock to me. They all say the same thing, over and over again.
He’s a flirt. He’s got a big dick. He’s good in bed. He’s a sex god. He’s charming. He’s funny.
Those are the good things. But they say other things too.
He’s selfish. He goes through women like toilet paper. He’s cold hearted. Mean spirited. He drinks too much. He uses girls and tosses them aside.
Shame hits me and I mentally shove it away. I’m in college. If I want to be selfish and fuck around, I have every right. I shouldn’t care what other people think, especially jealous, vengeful girls who are pissed at me for not being into them long enough to want to stick around.
My gaze snags on a blonde up ahead and I slow my steps, contemplating her. She’s thin and willowy, just like Alexandria. Her hair streams down her back, the morning sun glinting it with threads of honey gold and I swear to God my heart picks up speed when I think it might be her.
But when she turns left at the next building, disappointment threatens to swallow me. It’s not Alexandria. My reaction to the possibility was way over the top.
And fucking scary as hell.
“Can I ask you a question?” I pluck at an imaginary thread on the inside seam of my jeans, my head bent. I feel super dumb for asking this but the words have hung on the tip of my tongue since the night of the party. I just didn’t know how to approach it. Approach her.
“Go for it.” Kelli pauses and I glance up to meet her gaze. “This isn’t about the latest chapter, is it? Because I don’t get the new formula.” She sighs and leans back against her seat. “I’m going to fail this stupid class, I know it.”
We’re in the library, hidden away on the fourth floor, our statistics books spread out before us on a table. We don’t know what the hell we’re doing but we’re muddling through. We have a test at the end of the week and I know Kelli’s nervous about it.
So am I. But I’m more nervous to ask her what’s been on my mind and I hope she doesn’t hate me for it.
“It’s not about the chapter.” I wave my hand at our books, grimacing. God, I hate math. “It’s about…Tristan Prescott.”
Now I have Kelli’s full attention. Her gaze narrows and her lips curl in this mischievous smile that makes dread coil in my stomach. “What do you want to know?”
I swallow hard, my throat dry. I told myself I didn’t want to know anything. He made me so angry when he made that casual remark Saturday night. Who says things like that?
Do we need to fit to fuck?
I’m getting mad right now just thinking about it.
“Were you two ever…together?” My words are tentative, unsure and I want to smack myself. The Alex of old would never be hesitant to ask her friend a question about a guy. I was always bold. Sometimes too bold. I had a very I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude and it got me into trouble more than once.
But now, I’m reserved. Quiet. Private. I don’t want people to figure me out. I’d rather tell them what they want to know and if I never tell them?
Then they didn’t need to know anything.
Kelli, I’ve let in. Somewhat. Her friends Jade and Lucy? I like them too but I don’t know them well enough to say much of anything yet.
So I keep my lips sealed. For now.
Kelli giggles and shakes her head. “No one is ever ‘together’ with Tristan. He fools around with girls but he never dates them.”
Of course. His remark makes even more sense to me. I hope his hair—his thick, rich brown, soft-looking hair—still smells like beer.
“Did you two then…” I wave a hand, feeling like a fool. I don’t want to say the words out loud. That might make them real. Because if Kelli’s ever—ugh, fucked Tristan Prescott then forget it.
Forget. It.
“No. We never.” Kelli waves her hand much like I just did. “Here’s the deal. One night, I was down in the dumps over my boyfriend breaking up with me. Tristan was flirting with me the entire night, trying to make me feel better. We drank. A lot. I started hanging all over him and the next thing I knew, he was kissing me.”
I wait for more but she says nothing. Just resumes working on her homework, her pencil scratching over the paper annoyingly loud in the quiet of our section of the library.
“So that’s it?” I ask when I can’t stand it any longer.
Kelli laughs and turns to look at me. “What else can I say? The kiss was…bad. Awkward and weird and we concluded fast that we’re better off as just friends.”
“He’s a bad kisser?” I frown. He has nice lips. Well, they’re better when he’s keeping them shut because oh my God, he says the worst things.
“No, it just…it wasn’t right. There was no spark, no chemistry. It felt like kissing my brother.” She mock shudders for emphasis.
I have no brotherly feelings toward Tristan Prescott whatsoever. Mild irritation yes. Amusement, that too. Total anger, oh yeah, that came at me in spades when he made that shitty comment.
But I’m not mad anymore. I wouldn’t mind talking to him. Getting to know him.
He is the last person you should be getting to know. He’s like every other asshole you’ve gone out with in the past. You don’t need another rich, arrogant prick telling you what to do.
Sitting up straighter, I pull my book toward me, ready to focus on what actually needs to be done—my homework.
“Why are you asking about him?” I glance over at Kell
i and she sends me a look. “Are you interested?”
“No,” I say firmly. Honestly. That little pep talk in my head did the trick. “He’s cute. But he’s not my type.”
“That’s never stopped anyone before,” she says dryly.
I glance up to meet her gaze. “I’ve had my fill of cocky rich boys,” I tell her. “He’s the type who’s all talk and no action.”
Kelli laughs, so loud she immediately clamps her hand over her mouth. “He’s a lot of talk and action,” she says once she drops her hand. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
Yikes. I don’t need to hear this. Doesn’t help that I haven’t had sex in what feels like forever. When your personal life falls apart all around you, you tend to forget about satisfying your needs. Not that any guy I knew prior to the collapse of my family’s life would’ve touched me after everything that happened. I quickly became a pariah by association.
Thanks, Mom and Dad.
“Not seeing anyone at the moment?” Kelli asks after we’re quiet for a few minutes.
I press my pencil so hard against my paper the lead point breaks off. “I’m trying to concentrate on school.”
“We all say that when we’re not getting any action.” I glare at her and she sticks her tongue out at me, making me laugh. “You should come out with me tomorrow. It’s Thirsty Tuesday.”
“Isn’t it supposed to be Thirsty Thursday?” I ask.
“Tomorrow is Tuesday,” she says slowly, like I don’t get it. “And my favorite bar does Thirsty Tuesday and Thursday. A double whammy.” Her face brightens. “It’s Ladies’ Night tonight. We should go.”
“It’s already so late…” My voice drifts. I was really looking forward to snuggling up in my bed and watching old Friends episodes on Netflix tonight. Or maybe Sex and the City.
“What, have you turned into an old lady? Come on.” She nudges me with her elbow.
“Yeah, come on. Ladies’ Night is the best.”
The deep male voice makes us both jerk our heads up at the same time. My heart falls to my stomach then immediately starts to pound when I see who it is.
Tristan Prescott.
“Are you sick? What are you doing in here?” Kelli asks incredulously.