Текст книги "Slow Play"

Автор книги: Monica Murphy

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

I want to see you.

But it’s so late.

I don’t care. I’m coming over.

Tristan I don’t think so…

Yeah. I won’t try to give you the big D. We can just talk.

Talking gets us nowhere.

Okay fine we’ll make out. It’ll be awesome. See you in ten.

I leave the house before she can convince me to stay.

I toss another piece of bark at Alex’s bedroom window as hard as I can but it just pings against the glass and lands in the rosebushes. I knew I hated those stupid rosebushes for a reason the first time I saw them. And it’s not like I can throw rocks at her window. With my luck I’d probably break it and make her mad.

So I stick with the bark.

The nervous energy bubbling inside of me is making me agitated and I pace, telling myself I’m being stupid by trying to get her attention this way. I could just knock on the damn door. Walk inside, say hi to the guys, ignore the smirk on Kelli’s face that I know will be there and head to Alex’s bedroom.

But I don’t want them to know I’m here. I want this to be between us. Our little secret. Hell, I’m pretty sure Alex isn’t feeling me coming over here but I didn’t really give her a choice.

Typical behavior on my part, but I can’t help myself. I’ve been dying to see her all day.

All. Damn. Day.

Deciding to hell with it, I pelt her window with the bark I’ve been cradling in my palm. One piece after another, splat, splat, splat against the glass until finally she cracks open the blinds and there she is, illuminated by the light glowing behind her.

My heart lurches at first sight of her pretty, slightly scowling, totally confused face. I wave a finger at her, indicating she should open her window and she pulls the cord to lift the blinds, then pushes open the window.

“What are you doing?” she whispers as I approach.

“Coming to see you.” I stop just in front of the damn rosebush, suddenly feeling unsure. What if she tells me to leave?

“I do have a front door you know.” She rests her hands on the windowsill, looking cute as hell in a green long sleeved shirt that has a white dove in the center and says Old Navy 2010 in Christmas-y colored plaid across the top.

“Nice shirt,” I tell her.

She glances down. “I’ve had it since high school.”

“Ready for Christmas?”

A flicker of something unrecognizable shines in her gaze. “Not really. I hate the holidays.”

“You do?” I’m surprised. I thought most girls loved Christmas. Tinsel, sparkle, cute little Santas and presents—what more could they ask for?

“Yeah.” She considers me, tilting her head to the side. “I should tell you to go home.”

“Why?” Dread sinks like a stone in my gut.

“It’s late. I’m tired.” She runs a hand through her hair and yawns as if to make a point. “It’s cold out here.”

“No shit,” I mutter. I’m wearing my thickest pullover hoodie and sweats. It’s fucking freezing but I’m starting to realize I’ll do just about anything to see this girl.

Which is scary as hell.

“Aren’t you tired?” she asks.

I shake my head.

“Cold?”

I nod.

“Come back tomorrow then. This is crazy.” She starts to close the window and I make like I’m going to push past the rosebush. I don’t care if those giant thorns that seem to glitter in the night scratch me up. I’m that determined to get in Alexandria’s bedroom. “What are you doing?” she asks incredulously.

“If you’re going to make me hack my way through this fucking rosebush to see you, I’ll do it,” I tell her.

“Tristan.”

“Alexandria.” I grin.

“Oh my God. Let me go unlock the door.”

“Don’t tell anyone I’m here,” I say immediately, stopping her in her tracks. “Do you have another door you can let me in through?”

She considers it. “There’s a weird door that leads to the backyard at the end of the hall.”

“Let me in that way.”

She smiles. “You’ll have to hop the fence.”

I lean back and consider it. It’s tall, at least six feet but shit. I’ve hopped a few fences in my life. “Meet you there in two minutes.”

“You’re insane.”

For you, I want to tell her but I keep my mouth shut. She shuts the window before I can say anything and the blinds drop with a loud thud. That’s my cue to head over to the fence, which I do, contemplating how I should attack it.

Glancing over my shoulder, I make sure there’s no one driving by before I make the leap. Hopefully a police car won’t drive by because right about now, I look like a prowler ready to break in.

Fuck. If she only knew the lengths I’ll go to spend just a few stolen minutes with her…

I haul my ass over the wobbly wooden fence, landing on the ground with a solid thump, jarring my knees. In another life—all through high school—I played football. I was decent, I enjoyed it but the main reason I played? The jocks got all the pussy. And man, did I get a lot of pussy back in the day.

My sneaking around is reminding me of those old days. When I would go see a girl in the middle of the night, slip into her room and make out with her on her bed for hours. Those had been good times—made especially good because we never got caught. I was a lucky son of a bitch.

Tonight, I’m hoping I’ll get lucky again.

The door swings open as I approach it and Alexandria is standing there, waving at me to get inside. I climb the steps and enter the warm house, her scent wrapping all around me, making me want to grab her, haul her in close and kiss her.

But I keep my hands to myself, watching as she quickly shuts the door, turns the lock and then indicates she wants me to follow her. I fall into step behind her, crowding her as we head toward her bedroom. I can’t resist—my hand goes to her waist and she lets me touch her, seems to pause so our bodies can bump against each other and I close my eyes, breathe in the delicious scent of her hair.

She smells so damn good. Feels even better.

We’re in her room in seconds and I pull her to me, kissing her briefly. Too brief.

“I shouldn’t have let you in,” she says, sounding breathless. She takes a step back and I let her go.

“Why?”

“I don’t need the distraction.”

I smile. Well, that’s a hopeful admission. “I’m a distraction?”

“Totally. You do realize I went on a date already tonight,” she says wryly.

“Yeah.” I rub the back of my neck, trying to ease the tension. I can’t stand the thought that she was with Steven. The only reason I’m not punching holes into the walls is because of what she told me. “But you said you two decided to be friends.”

“We did.” She nods.

“And that he’s interested in Kelli?” Crazy.

“Yeah.”

“She’s also interested in him?”

“She is.”

“Kinda like how I’m interested in you?”

“Exactly how are you interested in me, Tristan?” she asks.

“Let me show you.” I make like I’m going to grab her and she dodges out of my way, slipping past my fingers. “Come on.”

Alexandria shakes her head. “If you’re going to hang out with me tonight, you have to do it on my terms.”

“And what are your terms?”

“We’re going to watch Sex and the City and snuggle.” The way she says it is adorable.

“Really?”

She nods.

Okay. I’m down to snuggle. I’ve never done it before but for Alexandria, I’ll do anything to spend time with her. But Sex and the City? “You’re going to make me watch that chick show?”

“Yep.”

“It’s old.”

“It’s timeless.”

“They’re a bunch of old bags constantly fucking around.”

“They’re real women with a solid friendship looking for love in a heartless, cruel city,” she explains, sounding downright impassioned.

“You’re not going to give me a choice, are you?”

“Nope.” She shakes her head and waves a hand toward the bed. “Take it or leave it. Snuggle and SATC or you go.”

I kick off my shoes and shove them under a nearby chair, then pull off my hoodie. Alexandria stands in front of me as if she’s frozen, her lips parted, eyes wide. “What?” I ask after I toss my sweatshirt onto the chair.

She shakes her head, snapping her mouth shut. “Nothing. Let’s do this.” She goes to her bed, tosses a bunch of throw pillows on the floor tugs back the comforter, inviting me into her bed. Jesus, I feel like I’ve just won the biggest hand I’ve ever played.

And I’m going to savor every fucking second.

There is nothing better than witnessing Tristan undressing and making himself comfortable in my bedroom. Seriously, when he pulled off his sweatshirt and I caught a glimpse of his flat stomach when his T-shirt rode up? A fan-myself-moment for sure, everything I’ve got perking up and going on high alert. Then when he looked at me with confusion in his eyes and his hair a golden brown mess from pulling the hoodie over his head?

I died a little inside. I may be playing it cool and acting like I don’t care that he’s here but deep down my girl parts are squealing with anticipation.

He climbed into my bed like he belonged there and left me no choice but to do the same. By the time I’d nervously fixed my pillows and settled in, he already had my laptop in his hands and resting on his lap, frowning at the screen.

“You’re actually watching a DVD?” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

I shrug. “They were my mom’s.”

A brow shoots up. “Were?”

I’m treading on unfamiliar ground here. I don’t want to talk about my parents. It’s embarrassing enough that people I grew up with know what they did. Even worse when I’m supposed to explain every little detail of my parents’ fall from grace to new people in my life.

So I keep my mouth shut.

“She didn’t want the set anymore so she gave it to me. I started watching it and got hooked.” I lean over to look at my menu options, eager to change the subject. “Season three is my current favorite.”

“What, the different seasons vie to be your favorite?” He looks over at me, the glow from my laptop illuminating his face and making him look extra pretty. It doesn’t hurt that I actually have this man in my bed.

In my bed. I can’t get over it.

“It depends on my mood, but seriously, this season is awesome. It taught me the term golden shower.” Tristan makes a face and I giggle. “The girls go to Los Angeles and have wild adventures. I learned about bad karma and what comes around, goes around. But my favorite episodes are when Carrie hooks up with Big even though he’s married.”

Tristan frowns. “Why is that?”

“Her struggle is so…real.” I don’t know how to describe it and I feel sort of dumb for advocating episodes that involve cheating. But my heart hurts for her every time I watch them. And when Charlotte catches the two of them walking down the street together, she’s so angry, and Carrie feels so guilty…

Lately I’ve been feeling like that. Struggling. Guilty. Conflicted. And most of those feelings have to deal with the man who’s sitting next to me. In my bed, might I remind you.

“It’s also the season that gave us funky spunk,” I blurt out.

Tristan’s head whips toward mine when I say that. “Excuse me?”

My cheeks go warm. “Samantha gives a blowjob to some guy—”

“That’s the slutty one, right?” he interrupts.

I send him a look. “She’s the more—adventurous one, yes—anyway when he, uh, comes in her mouth.” Yeah, describing this episode is way more embarrassing than I anticipated, especially with how closely he’s watching me. “It tastes awful. And so she says he has funky spunk.”

“I want to see this episode,” Tristan immediately says.

“I can just tell you about it,” I offer.

“No.” He shakes his head. “I need to see it. Come on, load it up.”

And this is how we end up watching the funky spunk episode together. There are all sorts of other things going on. Charlotte gets engaged, Carrie finds out that Big is getting a divorce and Miranda’s pissed at Steve but Tristan only perks up when Samantha appears on screen.

Of course. The various blowjob scenes and spunk talk are all kinds of awkward but he laughs in all the right places and so do I. I blush when we see the actor’s naked butt and can’t help but wonder if Tristan has a nice naked butt…

Which I’m sure he does. It’s good enough clothed. I can’t imagine seeing it naked.

“I’m reluctantly saying this,” he admits once the episode is over. “But that was hilarious.”

“Samantha is funny,” I agree.

“They’re all funny.” He turns to meet my gaze, his little smile, his nearness stealing my breath. “Let’s watch another one.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “I think I want more Samantha.”

We binge on three more episodes, ones I chose that highlight Samantha’s sexual antics. The episode with the guy who has a huge penis is his favorite one of them all.

Figures.

“I can relate,” he says sleepily once the episode is over. His head sinks into the pile of pillows he’s laying on, his eyes at half-mast. “Not that you’d never know since you’ve never seen my big D.”

“Are you for real?” I mock glare at him and he chuckles.

“I can show you now if you want. Though you might want to do some intensive yoga and light up a joint so you can get good and relaxed first.” He lifts his brows. “Gotta prepare so you can take it deep.”

“Oh my God, shut up.” I make to shove him but he grabs my hand and rubs his palm against mine slowly, the slight friction seeming to cause sparks to light up between us. I watch breathlessly as he curls his fingers around mine, drawing his out before pressing them back in so that we’re holding hands, like kids.

But the way he touches me doesn’t feel kid-like. My skin buzzes where we connect, his deft fingers moving over mine lightly, making me shiver.

“I like your hands,” he admits, his voice low and sexy. “They’re so soft.”

His are not. They are just rough enough to feel manly and rugged and I like it. He’s still toying with my fingers, pulling our hands apart so he can flip mine over and examine my palm, tracing the lines there with his index finger. His touch is feather light. When I lift my head I find that he’s already watching me with those dark, turbulent eyes.

“I think you’ve converted me,” he whispers and I blink at him.

“Converted you to what?”

“Sex and the City.” He smiles and shifts so his head is closer to mine. “I’m a total fan.”

“You only watched four episodes,” I point out.

“I’ll watch more. I’ll watch them all.” His smile grows. “That’ll give me a good excuse to come over here more often. Not that I need one.”

Arrogant Tristan is bad enough. Cute, sweet Tristan is ten times worse and I didn’t think that was possible. All I can do is stare at him in wonder, curious over what’s happening in that brain of his. What is he thinking? What is he doing? What are his motives?

I don’t know. I almost don’t want to know. I’d rather think he was into me and I’m into him and we’re just having a good time.

It’s simpler that way.

“You like coming over here to play video games with the guys?” I ask quietly.

He slowly shakes his head and comes even closer, readjusting himself so he’s lying on his side and I’m flat on my back, his head hovering over mine. I gaze up at him, trembling as I wait for him to make the next move. “I’m here for you.” He dips his head and brushes my mouth with his. More sparks fly. I’m surprised we haven’t set each other on fire yet. “The only reason I’ve ever come here is for you.”

There’s no more talking. The kiss is soft, an exploration, a question. I part my lips easily, inviting him in, eager to deepen the kiss. Our tongues circle and search, his arm stretches across my stomach, his hand resting lightly at my waist. I reach up to touch his face, skim my fingers over his cheek, trace the line of his firm jaw. His skin is warm, covered in scratchy stubble. I’ve never allowed myself to touch him like this before, not really. I always kept myself reined in, scared to want too much, to take too much.

But tonight, I want to take. Just a little. Just enough to satisfy my curiosity.

He breaks the kiss first and I open my eyes to find him watching me, his lips damp, his hair hanging over his forehead. He drops a kiss on the tip of my nose. My cheek. My other cheek. My forehead. Tender, sweet kisses I would never associate with Tristan the player but I’m starting to think there’s more to him. A side he doesn’t show anyone. One I’d like to see more of.

“I should go,” he whispers against my cheek, his breath hot.

“Really?” I croak. I’m stunned. He’s going to…leave? Now? “You um, said we were going to make out.”

“If I keep this up it’ll be more than making out.” He rolls over so he’s flat on his back, resting his arms on his chest, hands linked, fingers laced together. “I’m trying to take it slow.”

“Why?”

He smiles and rises up on his elbows. “Because I think you might be worth it.” I lean in and he cups the back of my head, kissing me. “Because I want to do right by you.” Another kiss, this one incredibly soft, his lips lingering on mine before he reluctantly pulls away, his hand slipping from my hair. “Because I want to make sure you really want this. Want me.”

Before I can say anything he’s leapt off the bed, pulling on his sweatshirt and toeing on his shoes. “I’ll see you later?” he asks once he’s ready to go.

I rise up onto my knees and crawl over until I’m on the edge of the bed, closest to where he stands. Grabbing hold of the drawstrings on his hoodie, I tug, pulling him down for a kiss. “I don’t want you to leave,” I murmur against his lips.

Wow. Look at me being bold, asking for what I want.

A harsh breath leaves him and he closes his eyes. “You’re killing me here. I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“I think you should do the wrong thing.”

“And what do you define as the wrong thing?”

“Diving back underneath the covers and getting naked with me.” Am I testing him? Am I testing myself? I don’t know. But I’m not lying when I say I want that. I so do.

He grabs hold of my hands and grips them tight, giving them a squeeze before he releases them. “Gotta go. I’ll text you.”

I’m gaping at him. I can’t believe he just turned me down. Strangely enough, I don’t feel rejected. “You’re really leaving?”

Tristan goes to the door and opens it, turning to look at me before he slips out. “It’ll be worth it in the long run. I promise.”

I toss a pillow at the door as soon as it quietly shuts, battling against the sexual frustration throbbing deep inside of me. I kind of liked that he walked away. I sort of hate that he seemed able to do it so easily.

Now he’s just left me wanting more.

“I have no idea what to wear,” I mutter as I rifle through my tiny closet. I can’t remember the last time I bought something new. I’ve been purposely forcing myself to wear clothes I already own, considering my old closet back home was as big as my entire bedroom here and full of the latest and greatest styles, including super hot shoes and expensive bags.

After all the bad shit went down, I returned a bunch of those unworn shoes and got my money back. A lot of those expensive bags have also made me good money at the consignment shop. Sandie is thrilled with how fast they’ve sold and keeps asking if I have anymore, which I so do but that warrants a visit to the storage place and I haven’t had a chance to make it over there in a while.

For some reason my life went from dull and lonely, to exciting and busy. I blame it on making new friends. And a certain arrogant, sexy dude.

“I’m sure you’ll find something,” Kelli says, clearly not paying attention to me. She’s sitting on my bed, flipping through a magazine she picked up at the grocery store when we stopped by there earlier. “Hey, wanna take this sex test?”

I pause in my search for the perfect thing to wear. “No.”

She makes a noise. “God, you’re no fun. Don’t you want to know if you’re a wild woman or not?”

I’m fairly certain I’m not a wild woman. “I’m pretty boring when it comes to sex. I don’t need a test to tell me that.”

“Oh, come on, you can’t be that boring. I bet you have a few wild secrets up your sleeve.” She glances up from her magazine and wrinkles her nose. “Is that what you’re wearing? Don’t you think that’s a little too much?”

Sighing, I tug the black sweater dress I have on over my head, leaving it in a crumpled heap on the floor. Kelli’s right. A dress is too formal. It looks like I’m trying too hard to impress and that is so not the image I want to portray with Tristan’s friends.

Ugh. I can’t believe I even agreed to do this tonight anyway. I think Tristan is a little stunned that he agreed to it as well. A double date with Gabe and Lucy, we’re going to dinner together. Tonight.

He’s picking me up in less than an hour and I still don’t have an outfit figured out. I’m already a massive case of jittery nerves. I haven’t seen Tristan since the night we watched SATC and that was days ago. We’ve talked. We’ve texted. But what if he acts weird?

Knowing him he might act weird. I’m still baffled we only kissed a couple of times and then he left. I figured he’d try to make a move. A big move. Involving his big D.

Oh my God, I’m starting to sound like him in my thoughts. Clearly I have a problem.

“Whoa, what in the hell are you wearing?” Kelli asks.

I glance down at myself before I lift my head and meet her startled gaze. “Underwear?”

“That is some of the fanciest schmanciest underwear I’ve ever seen.” Kelli actually whistles. “Where did you get it?”

See, here’s the thing. Back in the day, when money was no object and I used my daddy’s credit card to buy whatever I wanted, I developed an underwear fetish. As in, I liked to spend top dollar on the finest lingerie I could find. Not that I was wearing it for a special guy. The serious relationships I had were few and far between, and the ones I did have weren’t particularly passionate.

But wearing delicate lace panties and a matching bra that costs more than the actual clothes I wore over them gave me this weird sense of power. Like I was wearing my armor beneath the regular clothes and no one had a clue. Sexy lingerie made me feel untouchable.

After everything that happened with my parents, I lost some of that power, and I definitely didn’t feel untouchable. When we got kicked out of our grand mansion, I shoved all my pretties in a box and tried to forget they existed. When I went through everything and stashed so much of it in storage, I brought the box of lace and silk with me here.

So the money may be gone but the undies remain. Not like I can bring it all into the consignment shop and sell my used panties—that’s gross. Besides, I didn’t want to get rid of them. I’ve rediscovered my love for my expensive lingerie collection and I’ve been wearing all sorts of stuff since the night Tristan came over. I put on this particular bra and panties set with Tristan in mind, hoping he’d catch a glimpse of them later tonight.

I sort of forgot myself and let Kelli get a full-on look at them right now.

“Victoria’s Secret I think, a long time ago.” Years ago. Black silk with white polka dots and trimmed in fine black lace, this set probably came from somewhere way more expensive but I didn’t want to say it. VS is common ground. Pretty much every girl on campus shops there.

“Tristan is going to shit.” Kelli throws her magazine down and sits up on the edge of the bed. “Seriously, Alex, you look hot. You actually have boobs.”

Ah, the brutal honesty of a friend. I know I’m flat chested. So does Kelli. She has no problem calling me out on it either. “This bra has really great lift.” I mess with the underwire and readjust the cups. Some guys call this false advertising. I just call it enhancing what I’ve already got.

“I’ll say. Tristan will want to lift those suckers right out of your bra.” She shakes her head. “God, I sound like a pervert. I blame my lacking sex life for this.”

Steven and Kelli are slowly circling around each other. They hang out. They talk. They text. They met for coffee twice. They went to a movie. He held her hand once—when they had to cross the street really fast. Otherwise, nothing is really happening.

And Kelli is frustrated.

“You need to make the first move,” I tell her as I go to my dresser and pull open a drawer, withdrawing my favorite dark blue sweater and shaking it out before I slipped it on. The color looks good against my skin and makes my eyes appear bluer. I shove up my sleeves and reach for the thin gold and silver bangles I used to wear all the time, stacking them on my wrist. “He’s afraid.”

“Scared guys are a pain in the ass,” Kelli mutters.

I slip a long necklace on over my head and turn to face her. “I had to be the one to make the first move with Steven. I advise you do the same.” I hold my arms out. “What do you think?”

“Great sweater. Love the jewelry. But you need pants.” Kelli narrows her eyes. “And what do you mean you had to make the first move?”

I can’t believe I frickin’ forgot to put on pants. Grabbing my favorite jeans, I slip them on hurriedly and then go in search of my knee high black leather boots that are underneath my bed. “I kissed him in the car the night we went to the movies.”

Kelli sucks in a loud breath. “You whore! Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

Shrugging, I sit next to her and start pulling on my boots. “It was totally boring, that’s why.”

“It was bad? He’s a bad kisser? God, don’t tell me that. All the anticipation is starting to kill me.” She sounds worried.

“Between us it was bad. We had no chemistry. That was the night we decided we were better off as friends and he admitted to me that he liked you.”

“He has a funny way of showing it,” Kelli mutters.

“Please. You’re still getting to know each other. Steven moves slow, you knew this. But you two seem to have lots of chemistry. I’m sure when you finally do kiss Steven, it’ll be amazing,” I reassure her as I pull on my other boot, readjust them both around the knee and then stand. “Okay, now how’s my outfit?”

“Awesome. Pants really complete the look.” I stick my tongue out at her and she laughs.

“I’m nervous,” I admit as I slip the tiny diamond studs my parents gave me for my thirteenth birthday into my ears. “What if Lucy hates me?”

“Lucy adores you,” Kelli says. “You two already know each other. What’s there to be nervous about?”

“We barely know each other. I’m closer to Jade.” But Shep’s working at the casino tonight so he and Jade couldn’t go with us.

“You’ll be fine. Lucy won’t hate you. How could she? They might both hate Tristan on occasion but they definitely won’t hate you.” Kelli pauses, watching as I roam around my room, picking the discarded clothes off the floor and throwing them in my closet before I shut the door to hide the mess. “What should I do about Steven?”

“Are you two doing anything tonight?”

“I’m just hanging out here with the guys.” She shrugs, looking disappointed.

“Maybe you should suggest the two of you go out and do something, then make your move while you’re out? Or take him back to your place.” Kelli hates her roommate. They share a tiny apartment and her roommate’s dickish boyfriend is always there, making a mess and lazing around on the couch all day. “Get him in your room and work your magic on him.”

“What if he’s not interested in my magic?” she asks forlornly.

“Then he’s an idiot,” I say firmly, smoothing the front of my sweater out. “Do you think my idiot will like what I’m wearing?”

“He’s going to die when he sees you. And then when he gets your clothes off later and sees what you’re wearing underneath all that, he’s going to die all over again. It’ll be awesome. Make sure you take some pics on your phone and post them on Instagram to capture that moment.”

“Right. I’ll be sure to do that,” I say dryly, making us both laugh.

I can’t stop staring at Alexandria. From the moment I arrived at her house and caught sight of her standing in the open doorway, I about swallowed my tongue. That blue sweater she’s wearing hugs her in all the right places and for some reason her tits look extra amazing. The fabric is soft, making me want to constantly reach out and touch and her jeans are extra tight, those knee high boots emphasizing her long as hell legs.

My girl is hot as fuck. I distinctly remember telling her exactly that the night of the Halloween party. I still agree with my early assessment.

Dinner with Gabe and Lucy has gone well so far. I can admit I was a little nervous. We’ve had our moments in the past. Hell, only a couple of weeks ago I was in deep shit with Gabe after insulting Lucy like the asshole that I am. I couldn’t wrap my head around my friends wanting to be with only one girl so I lashed out and said some shitty things. Didn’t help matters that I was drunk.

Being drunk never helps matters, I’m starting to learn.

Lucy and Alexandria get along great—so great they do that girl thing and leave together to go to the restroom.

“Why do they do that?” Gabe asks as he watches them walk across the restaurant toward the ladies room.

“I don’t know.” My gaze is stuck on Alexandria, the way she tucks her hair behind her ear, smiling politely at a group of guys as they walk by. Half of them turn and check her out as well as Lucy and I clutch my hands into fists, ready to chase after them so I can tell them to keep their eyes to themselves. The fuckers.

“Get over yourself,” Gabe mutters, noticing my clenched fists and no doubt the deadly look in my eyes. “They can look, they just can’t touch. If they ever try, that’s when you go and kick their asses.”

I slowly unclench my fists and reach for my water glass, taking a big gulp. I still can hardly believe the way I’m behaving. The last few days Alexandria has been busy with work and school. So have I, though our schedules never seem to coincide. So I spend a lot of time in my room working my way through the entire Sex and the City series.

If the guys found out I’d be dead. But holy shit, that show is good. I’ve learned a lot about women and their views on sex and relationships. Yeah, it’s a little dated but I don’t think women have changed that much. Before I met Alexandria, I didn’t give a shit about women’s views on sex and relationships. Now here I am getting in touch with my feminine side and watching a show women still praise today.

Clearly I’m hanging on to my man card by a thread.

I’ve already figured out who Alexandria is among the girls on the series. She’s a Charlotte. And Charlotte’s my fucking favorite, all prim and proper yet totally wild beneath that calm exterior. I’m neck deep in season five and Charlotte just slept with her lawyer. She was making that guy crazy with lust.