What if I’m making something out of nothing? This could be a casual thing. Tristan is the absolute king of casual things. And while he’s been attentive and sweet and we’ve spent a lot of time together these last few weeks, it could all come crumbling down with one wrong move.
Plus, I agonized over what to wear, which is so stupid. The dress I finally chose is two years old. And if a rich girl who stays on top of fashion is there, she’ll know it in an instant. I shouldn’t care, but old Alex is cringing at the idea of wearing something so out of fashion.
Though really, it’s not out of fashion at all. That’s just old Alex talking. Made out of soft black velvet, with little cap sleeves, a high, rounded collar and a flared skirt—a skirt that hits me high on my thigh, showcasing plenty of leg.
Probably too much leg but screw it. Tristan has told me time and again my legs are his favorite body part. May as well flaunt them while I can, even if it is thirty-five degrees outside, unusually cold for the California coast.
Kelli moves behind me, still curling my hair. “Steven is taking me out tonight.”
“Oh yeah?” I focus on my friend, tired of worrying about outfit woes. I’m focusing on the stuff I can control. It’s the easier route to take.
“Yeah. We’re going shopping for Christmas presents.”
I go still. “Sounds serious.”
“Not really. He just needs help picking out presents for his family, and I told him I pick out the best gifts ever. I know when I’m being used.” I laugh and she continues on. “Who am I to turn down a shopping date? It’ll be fun. Plus maybe I can hint around what I want for Christmas.”
“Are you getting him something?” I ask.
“I want to, but I’m not sure what. His favorite game is The Legend of Zelda. There’s this figurine he’s wanted since he was a kid but it’s so expensive. I saw one on eBay for over seven hundred bucks!” Kelli shakes her head.
“That’s nuts,” I agree, thinking it’s cute that she looked into it.
“How about you? Are you getting Tristan anything?”
I sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t want to make a big deal about the holiday.”
“Is he going back home this time?”
“Yeah. He even asked me to go home with him.”
Kelli sets the curling iron on the counter and turns to look at me. “Are you serious? That’s huge!”
“You think?” I’m not sure. He’s so hard to read and he made the offer so casually. I laughed like he was joking but his expression was solemn, his words carefully chosen.
“I want you to go with me,” he had said. “I don’t like thinking of you all by yourself during the holiday.”
I’d told him I was staying here over the month break from school and he couldn’t believe it. No one can believe it when I tell them and I’ve come close to confessing my pitiful story countless times.
But I could never make myself do it.
Part of my problem is I never feel like I’m on solid ground with Tristan. He’s still blissfully cruising along, pretending that what we share isn’t intense and mind blowing. Because it so is. There was a shift the night we had the talk, argument, whatever. To call it an argument is a bit of a stretch, though. More like the both of us having a minor fit.
I guess I shouldn’t try putting a label on what happened, right?
All I know is I feel closer to him. Does he feel the same? I keep catching him staring at me, this sort of lovesick look in his eyes. He covers it up fast, that mask he’s so good at wearing sliding into place when he realizes I’m watching him, but I saw it. And I recognize it too.
I’m feeling the same way he does.
Lovesick.
My phone buzzes, vibrating across the tile counter and I grab it to find a text message from Tristan on the screen.
You ready? I’m leaving the house now.
“Tristan’s left his house,” I tell Kelli, sending Tristan a quick answer before I set my phone on the counter. “Hurry.”
“Bossy brat,” Kelli mumbles, whipping that curling iron through my hair fast. “There. What do you think?” She finger combs out the curls, loosening them up so they look effortless.
“Perfect. I love it. Thank you.” I turn to face her and smile. “I need to get my shoes on.”
I exit the bathroom and go to my room, sitting on the edge of the bed so I can slip on my classic black Louboutin heels. Kelli enters the room seconds later, her gaze dropping to my feet.
“How can you afford shoes like that? They cost as much as two months’ rent.” She sends a pointed look to my feet. “I’d recognize those red soles anywhere.”
Opening my mouth, the words just fly right out of me. “I grew up a rich girl. I had everything I could ever want all through high school. Until my parents were busted—they embezzled money from their clients. Now they’re in prison.” I clamp my lips shut, stunned that I revealed so much.
Kelli’s jaw drops open, her eyes going wide. “Are you…are you flippin’ serious?”
“Yeah. I am.” I nod and pull on the other shoe, then stand. I tower over Kelli and she’s pretty average height so I feel like an amazon woman. “But please don’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t,” she says immediately, and I know I can trust her. “Both of your parents are in prison? Is that why you stay here during break?”
“I have nowhere else to go.” I shrug.
“Wow, crazy,” she murmurs, almost to herself. “Have you told Tristan yet?”
Here’s where it gets sticky. I don’t want her mad at me for keeping this from him. Grabbing the small Chanel evening purse I snagged from my mom’s collection before we were kicked out of our house, I toss my phone inside then snap it shut. “It just hasn’t come up yet,” I tell the ground.
“Huh,” Kelli says. I turn to face her. She’s watching me like I’m bat shit crazy. “I’ll allow that, I guess. I mean, it’s not like you can just drop a bomb like your parents are in freaking jail so casually.” Her words practically drip with sarcasm.
“I’m sorry.” I go to her and pull her into a quick hug. I don’t want her to muss up my dress, my hair, my makeup, none of it. “I know I just threw that at you like no big deal and I’m sure you have lots of questions. I can answer them tomorrow. Or over the next few days.” My mental load suddenly feels lighter and I’m kind of glad I told her. Now if I can just work up the nerve to tell Tristan about my past and get that over with…
“You’ve been keeping secrets, Alexandria Asher.” She smiles gently and wags her finger at me. “I expect a full explanation soon.”
“And I’ll give it to you. I promise.” I kiss her cheek, leaving a pink lipstick smear on her skin. I wipe it away with my thumb. “Thank you. For everything.” For helping me. For accepting me and expecting nothing in return.
I can’t say that to her, no matter how badly the words are ready to tumble off the tip of my tongue. She’d think I was weird. But she’s the first person who’s ever accepted me so easily and never wanted anything in return as some sort of payback. My old so-called friends used me for their own gain. There was nothing real or genuine about any of it.
But with Jade and Lucy, Shep and Gabe, sweet Steven and the annoying Conrad, the never-around Jeff and even Felisha—they’ve all become my friends. Real friends who want to spend time with me versus trying to gain something by being my friend. They’ve drawn me into their fold and we’ve created new folds, all driven by me.
And of course, then there’s Tristan. The man I’m falling for.
The man I’m in love with.
Not that I’ve told him. I’m not crazy. I drop the L word on him and he’ll freak. I need to ease into this gently. Carefully.
Oh, so carefully…
“Alex!” Conrad suddenly yells and I know that’s my cue to go. To face my man, let him take me by the arm and lead me to his car, in which he’ll whisk me away to a fun holiday party, where he can show me off and I’ll show him off, secure in knowing that h
e belongs to me. Nothing can hold me back tonight.
I’m determined to have a good time.
My mouth goes dry at first sight of her. Holy hell, I thought Alexandria was sexy as fuck in her angel costume when I first met her at the Halloween party
But the woman facing me tonight wearing a black dress with the shortest skirt I’ve ever seen and the highest black heels that look more like torture devices, I know I’ve never seen her look hotter.
Or more beautiful.
Her tentative smile reveals she’s nervous. I drink in her face—artfully applied cosmetics that only enhances her features, her hair falling in sexy waves around her face and past her shoulders. Taking her hand, I pull her in close, kissing her cheek and murmuring, “Are you trying to kill me?”
She withdraws from me, her smile growing bigger. Though it’s still tinged with nervousness. “You like?”
“I fucking love,” I say enthusiastically. “I hope I clean up as nice as you.”
“You clean up amazingly nice.” She steps back so she can take me all in. I hold my arms out. I’m wearing black trousers and a silvery-gray button down shirt, but no tie. I draw the line at a goddamn tie. “You look gorgeous.”
I reach for her, my arms going around her waist, ready to kiss off all that dark pink lipstick she’s wearing…
“You two are fucking disgusting,” Conrad calls from the living room, making us both laugh, easing the sudden tension. I’m nervous about going to this stupid party, though I don’t know why. I think Alexandria’s nervous too.
“You ready?” I ask her quietly.
She nods and I take her arm, leading her out of the house and toward my car. The cold air bites into my exposed skin, making me shiver and I hustle her pretty ass down the sidewalk, practically shoving her into the passenger seat before I go round the car and climb into the driver’s side.
“It’s freezing,” she says as I start the car, then lean over to crank up the heat.
“Turn on the seat warmer,” I remind her and she does, then reaches over and turns mine on too.
Always taking care of me. Watching out for me. Who knew that was a benefit to a relationship? I guess I should’ve known. It’s a natural assumption for most. But the main relationship I witnessed growing up was more like two people living side by side—not actually with each other. My parents just went through the motions. I never saw an ounce of affection between them. Ever.
But every little thing Alexandria does for me, whether it’s bringing me a glass of water or tucking a blanket around me when I complain I’m cold, is because she cares.
She cares about me.
My parents care because they have to—it’s an obligation. My family and friends barely tolerate me. I knew it too, so I purposely drove them crazy, almost like I dared them to stick around even though I’m a pain in the ass.
Not Alexandria. She cares about me because she wants to, because for some insane reason, she likes me. Wants to spend time with me and take care of me and kiss me and hug me and lets me touch her whenever I want. She’s shown me true friendship and true intimacy, something I didn’t think could exist, especially together.
With my angel, I have both. I’m a lucky man.
So why do I always feel like I’m on the verge of saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining what we have?
Shaking my head, I tell myself to focus on the here and now. I’ve got her in my car, she’s my date for this lame holiday party and we’re going to have a good time, damn it.
She talks about her workday as I drive us to the hotel where the party’s being held. She’d wanted the day off but her boss asked her to come in for a few hours in the morning since they’re been so busy with the holiday rush. Being the nice girl Alex is, she did.
I’m not paying close attention to what she’s saying. More like I’m entranced with the lilting sound of her voice. It’s soft at times, goes higher when she gets excited, a little lower when she’s irritated. She describes the usual mix of annoying customers, sweet old ladies and lots of random shoppers in search of the perfect Christmas gift.
“You’re not too tired?” I ask her when she’s done telling her story. “We can leave early if you want.” I’m cool with leaving early, especially considering what she’s wearing. I want to rush her back home and get her in my bed. Or maybe push her against a wall first and run my hands up her legs. Beneath her skirt, find out exactly what she’s wearing underneath there…
“No, I’ll be all right.” I glance in her direction to find her smiling at me. “I’m nervous but excited to go.”
“Shep and Gabe will be there.” Thank Christ.
“I know. Jade texted me earlier asking what I was wearing.”
“Did you tell her it was something indecent?” I raise my brows.
Alexandria laughs. “It’s not indecent. The skirt is kind of short but not that bad.”
“It’s bad. But I’m a fan of bad.” I reach over and rest my hand on her bare thigh. Her skin is cold and she startles at my first touch. “You’re like ice, baby.” I run my hand up and down her leg, my fingers curving around her inner thigh. “You need to warm up.”
“It’s cold out there.” She rests her hand over mine, stopping my progress. “Are you trying to find out if I’m wearing any panties?”
My cock perks up at that question. “Are you?” I hope so because her dress is damn short. She doesn’t need to be flashing her goods at any other guy at the party. I’m the only one allowed to see her goods.
Then again, maybe it’s a good thing she isn’t wearing any because holy hell, that’ll drive me insane, being stuck at the party for the next couple of hours. Making small talk all the while knowing my girl is walking around the room panty less.
Shit. I’m actually breaking out in a sweat contemplating the possibilities. Reaching out, I switch off the seat warmer, then turn down the heat.
“Kelli said I shouldn’t.”
Fucking Kelli. I want to both throttle and thank her for the suggestion. “Did you take her advice?”
“No,” she admits softly. “Did you see how short this dress is? It’s ridiculous.”
I chuckle and reluctantly remove my hand from her thigh. “Says the girl who claimed her skirt wasn’t that bad.”
“Fine, it’s bad. But it covers up everything else. At least I’m not flashing my boobs. Not that I have much boob to flash.”
“They’re perfect.” She’s perfect. I chance another glance at her to find she’s staring at her chest, smoothing the front of her dress down, fidgeting in her seat. In constant motion, like she’s seriously agitated. “Stop worrying. They’re all going to love you.”
Probably too much. They’ll leer at her and say something inappropriate that’ll piss me off. I’m prepared to hear a lot of shit talk. I’ve done my fair share over the years. I loved nothing more than to give a fellow frat brother endless grief for getting tied down with one girl. Could never imagine wanting to do the same.
Well, things change. People change. And though I can’t classify what Alexandria and I are doing—I’m not ready to define it, damn it—I do know that I’m not going anywhere. I like her. I care for her.
I could possibly even fall in love with her.
Whatever that means.
“You don’t dance?”
I glance over at Alexandria, my gaze meeting hers. The music is loud and she has to shout to be heard. We’re the only ones standing at one of those high cocktail tables, the little glass votive sitting in the middle casting its flickering light on her face. Her eyes seem wider tonight and I blame the makeup. Everything about her is brighter, more intense, more obvious.
Like her beautiful face. Her pretty smile. Her infectious laugh. That sexy body, those long legs that slay me dead every time I look at them. Now she wants to dance. I can see it in her eyes. Hear it in her voice.
I don’t fucking dance. I never have. I was forced when I won homecoming king my senior year but that lasted all of two minut
es if that, before I bailed. And that was a slow dance. I can shuffle my feet, hold onto a girl and not humiliate myself. Fast dancing? Hell no.
Shep’s out there making an ass of himself but what else is new? That guy just flat out doesn’t give a shit. I’ve never seen anyone act more ridiculous in my life, yet somehow he always manages to look cool. Everyone loves Shep. He’s the life of the party. The rest of us are just lucky we got invited.
“You should ask Shep to dance with you,” I tell her as I lean over and kiss her soft cheek. “He’ll do it.” Shep and Gabe are the only ones I’d allow to dance with my girl. The other assholes would risk getting their hands chopped off.
“I don’t want to dance with Shep,” she says softly, those big eyes imploring. “I’d rather dance with you.”
Sighing, I search the dance floor, frowning when I spot Gabe and Lucy out there too. Lucy can shake it. I’m not surprised. Gabe looks awkward, all flailing arms and elbows and I barely contain the laugh that wants to escape.
“I’ve never been a good dancer,” I admit, polishing off my Coke. I’ve remained sober tonight since I’m responsible for getting us home. Shep and Gabe both booked rooms at the hotel where the party is being held and I wish I had done the same. At the time they suggested it, I thought it was a stupid idea. Why, I’m not exactly sure.
Maybe because when it comes to this relationship thing, I have no idea what I’m doing half the time.
“How about during a slow song?” she asks, sounding hopeful. I don’t want to let her down. The last thing I ever want to do is crush her spirit. All she’s asking for is a little dance. I can manage that, right?
“Maybe,” I say and the smile on her face was worth my conceding. “Have you had fun?”
“Yes. A lot more than I thought I would.”
Me too. Considering I hadn’t been around much for the last year, hardly anyone paid me any mind, which was fine with me. I introduced Alexandria to them and not one guy made a rude comment. Not a one.