Slow Play

  “Scared of your girl that bad? Jesus, get a grip.” I keep my back to him as I finish my text and hit send.

  I need a favor.

  Kelli’s reply is almost immediate.

  If you want to make out that would be a no.

  I shake my head and reply.

  I think you’re obsessed with me.

  You wish. What do you want? I’m out with the girls.

  I know. I need a phone number.

  Who’s?

  Alexandria’s.

  No reply for a few seconds and I can feel Shep pacing behind me. “You’re a dick,” he mutters.

  “You’re the dick who’s scared of his girlfriend. Trust me, I’m not involving her in this.” I stare at my screen, willing a text to appear. And then it does.

  I shouldn’t give it to you.

  Why the hell not?

  I don’t think she likes you that much. She’d probably be pissed if she knew I gave it to you.

  Let me worry about that.

  They’re all pissed at me. They all hate me. Because I say and do what I want and don’t give a shit what other people think. My heart is hard, just like my fucking soul and I flat out don’t care.

  I’m becoming more and more like my old man every single day. It’s Mom who’s soft. Who lost her shit and almost took her life. It was his tough exterior and grim determination that got them through the hard times.

  But you don’t have to deal with hard times if you let anyone into your heart, right?

  A number appears on my screen, followed immediately by a reply from Kelli.

  Tell her where you got this and I’ll kill you.

  I immediately enter Alexandria’s number into my contacts before I answer Kelli.

  Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. Thanks K.

  I delete our conversation just to be sure.

  “You’re going about this all wrong,” Shep tells me.

  I barely look at him. I’m too busy trying to figure out what exactly do I say to Alexandria.

  “There are rules you know,” he continues.

  “Like what? You broke all those rules with Jade remember? One and done and all that shit. You’re a non-believer.” Christ, what do I say to her without coming across as a dick? And she thinks I’m the dick to end all dicks.

  Should I apologize?

  Yeah. I should. Chicks love it when you say sorry. But no groveling. I don’t think I need to stoop to that level yet.

  I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.

  I hit send before I can second-guess myself.

  Watching her receive the text, knowing that she’s reading the words I typed only seconds ago is a trip. She pulls her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and reads the message, her brows furrowing. Then her fingers start flying on the screen.

  Who is this?

  You know who it is. The prick who lurks in hallways hoping to pick up helpless women who are down to fuck.

  A little smile curls her lips when she reads my response and I smile in return, struck yet again by how beautiful she is. That sweater she’s wearing really brings out the blue in her eyes.

  I scrub a hand over my face. Did I really just think that?

  Yes. I fucking did.

  My phone dings and I read her text.

  How did you get my number?

  I’m magical. I can make anything happen.

  I lift my head after I hit send, our gazes meeting across the room. Steven isn’t paying attention to her. From the grimace on his face I’m thinking he’s too worried about the bad hand he was just dealt.

  That could be taken two ways, I suppose. Because in this story, that asshole isn’t getting the girl.

  I am.

  “These are gorgeous,” the woman gushes as she pulls yet another formal dress out of one of the many garment bags I brought in. Her warm brown gaze meets mine, her expression a mixture of sincerity and confusion. “Are you sure you want to sell these?”

  “I don’t plan on wearing them ever again.” I shrug, mentally pushing aside the hint of panic I feel at losing those dresses once and for all. “Besides, I don’t have the room for them.”

  I made my way to that vintage consignment shop downtown, showing up right when it opened. Surprisingly enough it’s pretty quiet. Well, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Most everyone is sleeping in this Saturday morning after partying on a Friday night.

  Me? I asked Steven to take me home immediately after he lost his one hundred dollars and he obliged without protest. I needed to get out of there, get away from Tristan, who wouldn’t stop texting me and sending me heated looks from across the room. Thank God he gave up on the texts after I left.

  But my brain certainly didn’t give him up. I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. All I could think about was him. When he touched my chin, his fingers warm and slightly rough on my skin. When I touched his perfectly soft, perfectly shaped mouth. How I whispered in his ear, reminding him of what a total douchebag he was.

  Weird thing is, I kind of—like his douchebag ways. What does that say about me? That I like douchebags? I thought I was over that particular stage but apparently not…

  “These dresses are going to sell like crazy. Some of those sorority/fraternity formals are coming up and I always have girls showing up here in a panic¸ looking for something unique.”

  Every one of those dresses was unique. And expensive. God, so expensive. The ball of dread that’s taken up residence in my stomach makes me consider backing out.

  But I can’t. I don’t need these dresses. I need the money they can make me way more.

  “I’ll want to take photos of them and put them on Instagram right away. I have lots of followers and they watch closely, always ready to pounce. Social media is the best thing that ever happened to my business.” She taps her lips, contemplating the dresses before her gaze slides to me. “Would you be willing to model them for me?”

  I gape at her. Uh, no way is my automatic first response. “I don’t know…”

  “You’re the original owner so it makes sense for you to model them. I’m sure they fit you perfectly.” She runs her hand down the front of a black velvet strapless cocktail dress. “Some of them look custom made.” Her voice is wistful.

  That’s because they were. Mother spared no expense. She spent as fast as Daddy earned it. Turns out he was stealing it. And she knew all along.

  “Um, I really don’t think I want my face shown.” I’m trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. Posing for photos that’ll appear all over Instagram—I don’t care if this woman only has two followers—isn’t the way to do it.

  “Not a problem. I’ll take the photos from the neck down. That’s how I usually do it. That way, the girls can imagine they’re the ones wearing the dress.” The woman holds out her hand for me to shake. “I’m Sandie by the way.”

  “Alex,” I tell her as I shake her hand. I like that she’s so eager to sell them. That means I’ll see money quick. “When do you want to take the photos?”

  “Can you come back later this afternoon? I need Susana to steam them first and make sure they look perfect.” Her face falls and she presses her hands against the glass counter in front of her. “Oh, wait. She called in sick.” A pause, accompanied by an irritated sigh. “Guess I forgot. Maybe tomorrow? But I really don’t want to wait until tomorrow. I could steam them I guess…”

  “I’ll steam them for you,” I volunteer.

  Her eyes brighten and she clasps her hands together. “You will? Oh, that would be fantastic. Have you ever worked a professional grade steamer before? It’s not that hard, trust me.”

  “I’m sure I can handle it.” Maybe. I’m not that domesticated. When you grow up with a housekeeper who takes care of everything for you, you don’t need to be. “How hard can it be?”

  She grows solemn. “You have to watch out for steam burn.”

  Steam burn? That sounds scary. “Um…”

  “If you’d rather I do it, I understand.
” She smiles at me. “You can watch the store for me while I’m steaming.”

  And that’s how I found myself with a job—my first job. Susana kept calling in sick and she was tired of it. “You sell one of your own dresses, your commission percentage is bigger,” Sandie informs me and my imagination runs wild at all the things I can bring in here and sell on my own, especially when she lets me know exactly how much my percentage will be.

  I worked for four hours and then modeled my dresses as Sandie took endless photos with her iPad for another two. By the time I got home, it was almost dark, I was tired and Conrad and Jeff were playing video games in the living room, the volume turned up so loud I could hear gunfire and screams down the street.

  Oh, and Steven was with them.

  “Alex.” His face brightens as he smiles at me from his perch on the couch. “Hi.”

  “Hey.” I shut the door and lean against it, contemplating this new situation. I’m worn out. I definitely don’t want to go out tonight—and definitely not with Steven. He’s nice, I like him a lot but I came to the realization around two in the morning that he is not the guy for me.

  It’s not right to go out on a date with one guy while thinking of another.

  Steven says something to Conrad, who pauses the game while Steven stands and heads in my direction. I push away from the door and slip my coat off, draping it over my arm as I wait for him to approach. He somehow looks better today. Maybe it’s because his hair is a bit of a wreck and it looks like he hasn’t shaved. Plus, he’s wearing glasses, which is kind of hot in that Clark Kent/Superman way.

  Rough around the edges Steven definitely has appeal.

  “You having a good Saturday?” he asks when he stops directly in front of me.

  “I am.” I smile despite my exhaustion. I could probably collapse in bed right now. “I got a job.”

  “You did? That’s awesome. We should celebrate.” His smile grows and I feel bad that I’m about to disappoint him.

  “Let’s get pizza,” Conrad calls from the couch.

  Steven makes a face as I say, “That sounds perfect.” It does. I don’t want to go out and make small talk. And what if he tries to take me back to the casino, gambling house or whatever that Tristan runs? I don’t want to see him again. Not now.

  Not yet.

  He frowns at me and lowers his voice. “Really?”

  “Since I’m a working girl now, I’m kind of tired.” I step closer and touch the edge of his frames, my index finger grazing the skin just beneath his eye. “What’s up with these?”

  His cheeks go red and I let my hand drop. I shouldn’t touch him or lead him on. That’s messed up. “I wear contacts most of the time but they were bugging me.” He looks sheepish. “I fell asleep wearing them last night and my eyes felt gritty when I woke up. So out come the glasses.”

  “You look good in them,” I say truthfully.

  “You think?” Steven looks surprised.

  I nod, wishing I could like this guy. He’s so nice. Humble. Modest. Polite and sweet and cute—all words I could never use to describe that sexy jackass Tristan Prescott.

  Here I go again, thinking about him. When can I not?

  “You don’t mind that I’m here, do you?” Steven asks worriedly, endearing himself to me even more. “Conrad texted earlier and invited me over.”

  “I don’t mind. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go change and then I’ll hang out with you guys.” I smile, trying to be nice but not too nice. I don’t want to lead him on.

  “You will?”

  “Well, yeah.” I normally don’t hang out with Conrad and Jeff and their friends. But it’s different tonight. Steven’s here and I want to get to know him better. Maybe spending time with him more will help drive Tristan out of my system once and for all.

  I’m mentally contradicting myself. This isn’t good.

  “What kind of pizza do you like, Alex?” Conrad asks as he gazes at his phone.

  “Whatever. I’m easy.” I smirk at Steven. “Just don’t let that get around,” I tease him, making him blush even further. Jeez.

  Conrad hesitates a little before he says, “Got any friends you want to invite over, Alex?”

  Not really. Well, there’s Kelli, but will she want to hang out with these gamer nerds? Anyone else I know would be through Kelli and they have boyfriends already…

  “Let me see what I can put together,” I tell Conrad, offering Steven a quick smile. “Be right back,” I tell him as I turn and head for my bedroom.

  Well. This ought to be an interesting night.

  After driving aimlessly for over an hour, I ended up at Gabe’s because I had nothing else better to do on a cold Saturday night. When I left the house, Shep was with Jade locked away in their bedroom—and we know what’s happening in there. I decide to go to the casino because why the hell not. It’s Gabe’s night to work but the minute I walk through the door, I see he’s got Lucy with him, sitting on his lap for God’s sake, her arms looped around his neck as she stares at him lovingly.

  Of fucking course.

  “What are you doing here?” Gabe asks as he shifts Lucy off his lap and rises to greet me.

  “Bored,” I mutter, shoving my hand through my damp hair and pushing it off my forehead. It’s raining out, the drops like ice and so fucking miserable. What else am I going to do? All I can think about is fucking Alexandria. Alex. Ali. Whatever the hell her name is.

  I need a drink.

  Gabe tries to keep his expression neutral but I see the surprise flare in his eyes. “You’re bored? But it’s Saturday night.”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “Go to a bar. Find a girl. Buy her a drink. Take her home. The end.” Gabe shakes his head. “Isn’t that your normal mode of operation?”

  “I don’t want to go to a bar.” Only if it’s a guarantee that Alexandria will be there. Otherwise, fuck it.

  “Say what?” Gabe clutches his heart and stumbles backwards, the asshole. “Are you sick? Or maybe my hearing’s going on me.”

  “Shut up.” I shrug out of my jacket and hang it on the coat rack by the door. “I thought I’d come help you.”

  “It’s dead.” Gabe waves a hand at the near empty tables. “I think it’s the weather. No one wants to go out in this rain.”

  Yeah. Me either. But here I am, with nowhere to go. I guess I have options, girls I could call, text, whatever. Ask them if they’re down to fuck.

  Just thinking those words make me think of her. And I refuse to text Alexandria. She never answered my text from last night so forget it. I’ll just suffer through alone.

  It sucks. What the fuck is wrong with me? I should go to a bar, pick up a hot blonde with small tits and long legs and fuck her until sunrise. Or maybe fuck her for only thirty minutes. Just enough time to come and get out of there before she sinks her claws into me too deep. That’s what they all seem to want. Except her.

  Hell. I don’t want another blonde with small tits and long legs.

  I want her.

  “Where’s Kelli?” I ask Lucy.

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her all day. Why do you ask?” Those dark brown eyes are watching me closely. Too closely.

  “You shouldn’t lead her on, Tris,” Gabe warns. “That girl used to like you.”

  And here we go. Can’t a guy be friends with a girl he made out with for all of five minutes? “Thanks for the advice, Dad, but I’m a big boy and Kelli is a big girl. And besides, she used to like you,” I remind him.

  He sends me a look, one that says he does not like me saying that in front of Lucy. Well, tough shit. That’ll teach him for getting all cautionary tale on me. “You shouldn’t lead her on.”

  “I’m not leading her on. I don’t like her like that and she knows it. I like someone else.” The second the words leave my mouth I want to grab them back, stuff them down my throat and hide them away in the darkest, most secret place inside me. Where they belong.

  Lucy’s e
yes go so wide I’m afraid they’re going to pop out of her head. “Who do you like?” she practically breathes.

  Gabe crosses his arms in front of his chest and tilts his head, looking full of doubt and muscles. “Alex.”

  I say nothing. Just pull my phone out of my back pocket and send a quick text to Kelli.

  Where are you?

  She replies almost immediately.

  You would LOVE to know stud.

  “Are you texting Alex?” Lucy asks excitedly.

  I ignore her, my fingers flying over the screen. I’m pretty good at this typing with thumbs thing. And why the hell is Kelli calling me stud? She’s so fucking weird.

  Tell me.

  You’ll be jealous.

  Now you have to tell me.

  Playing video games with a bunch of sweet nerds. They’re kind of cute.

  I frown. Kelli doesn’t like nerds. Well, that ex of hers was a total dickhead, but not what I would consider a nerd. Huh.

  Why would I be jealous of you playing video games with dudes?

  There’s someone else here who you might want to see.

  I lift my head, my gaze meeting Gabe’s. He frowns at me. “What?”

  Shaking my head, I realize I can’t fucking speak. It’s like a giant ball is lodged in my throat and I can’t swallow past it. I know who’s there with Kelli. I can’t hardly believe it but it must be true.

  Who is it?

  Her name begins with A.

  And ends with A.

  Alexandria.

  My phone dings.

  She’s here with her boy.

  Who’s her boy?

  Steven.

  Fucking shit. If I could hit something I would. Right now.

  Forget this text crap. I hit dial and impatiently wait for Kelli to answer.

  “Took you long enough. I figured you’d call me seven texts ago,” she says in greeting. There’s a lot of noise going on in the background, including the sound of male voices and excessive gunfire.

  “Where exactly are you at?”

  “Hold on,” she says irritably before she pulls the phone away from her ear. “I’ll be right back,” she tells whoever she’s with. I hear protests, most of them male and she laughs, letting them know she won’t be gone long.