Slow Play (The Rules #3)(14)

Not me. My parents are still together but they were on shaky ground not that long ago. Hell, my mother had to be put in rehab almost two years ago, after she lost a bunch of money in bad investments.

And when I say a bunch of money, I’m not talking a couple thousand dollars. More like hundreds of thousands of dollars—to the tune of close to one million dollars. That had been a minor blip on the family bank account but the worst part of the situation? The dude who convinced Mom to make those investments? Also happened to be her lover.

Needless to say, she almost lost her sanity when she lost her money—and her secret boyfriend. The downward spiral had been painful but somehow, my parents came out on the other end. Mom’s better. Dad’s golfing. They rarely spend time together anymore and they like it that way.

Their distant relationship proves to me what’s the point. My parents aren’t as f*cked as Shep’s, with his social climbing bitch of a mother and stern-as-hell father who seem to revel in their hate for each other. But there’s another prime example of why I don’t want to be in a relationship.

They all end up bad. Every single one of them. I don’t care how blissed out and in love people claim they are, it eventually goes to shit.

Alexandria stirs, drawing my attention and I turn off the engine, the sudden quiet seeming to push her into wakefulness. She sits up quickly and looks around, disoriented as she brushes her hair away from her face. Her head turns toward me and our gazes meet. Lock. “I fell asleep,” she says obviously, her voice soft and sexy.

“I know.” I nod and reach out to turn off the seat warmers, my fingers brushing against her thigh as I do. Electricity sparks where I touch her and I snatch my hand away, settling it on the bottom of the steering wheel. “Need my help with your stuff?”

She shakes her head. “I can get it if you pop the trunk.”

Damn it, I actually want to help her. Why does she have to be so difficult? “It’s still raining.”

“I think I can make it,” she says drolly, reaching for the door handle. Pausing, she keeps her back to me for a long, heavy moment before she glances over her shoulder, wary blue eyes meeting mine. “Thanks for the ride home.”

“Anytime,” I tell her, meaning it. Fuck, I mean it and I shouldn’t. This sucks. I don’t want to like her but my fingers are still buzzing from touching her earlier.

Talk about ridiculous.

She gets out of my car and I do the same, slamming my door and rushing toward the trunk, the hood already popped. I open it before she arrives and reach inside for the pile of garment bags I threw in there. She appears at my side and tries to take them from me but I won’t let her.

“I’ll carry them in for you,” I tell her, raising my voice so I can be heard above the pounding rain.

Alexandria tries to tug them out of my arms but I won’t let go. “You’re so irritating,” she yells, making me laugh.

I shut the trunk and follow after her toward the front door, not missing the way she glares at me when I duck under the tiny overhang to stand beside her. “Hand them over,” she demands and I shake my head.

“God,” she mutters as she opens the door and bursts inside. I trail after her, my gaze going everywhere, finding the living room fairly standard. Giant brown suede-looking couch, battered coffee table in front of it and a cheap but large flat screen TV hanging on the wall, while a Playstation 4, a Wii U and various controllers lie discarded on the floor.

“You play?” I ask, nodding toward the game systems.

“Of course not,” she retorts as she shuts the door. “But my roommates do.”

I raise a brow. “How many people do you live with?”

“Three.”

The girl doesn’t give an inch when it comes to personal information. “And what are their names?”

“Not like you know them,” she says and I send her a look that makes her roll her eyes. “If I tell you, will you leave?”

“Only if I can see your room.”

“How old are we again?”

“I’m twenty-one. Almost twenty-two,” I inform her with my most charming smile. It doesn’t seem to charm her whatsoever. “How old are you?”

“If I tell you, then will you go?” she asks hopefully.

“Let me take this to your room while you answer my questions, and then I’m out of here,” I promise.

She waves a hand and starts walking down the short hall. I follow her, shifting the garment bags from one arm to the other. Whatever the hell is in here, it’s pretty heavy.

“I’m twenty-one,” she tells me as she stops in front of a door near the end of the hall. She opens it and steps out of my way so I can enter in front of her. “And my roommates are Felisha, Conrad and Jeff. Now leave.”

“Conrad?” I ask incredulously, turning to look at her. I’m ignoring that now leave remark. The look on her face tells me she’s beyond irritated.

“Yeah. Conrad. He’s a real sweetheart.” She nods and points to a wicker chair in the corner of the room. “You can set the garment bags over there, thanks.”

I do as she requests, glancing around her room, looking for…what I don’t know. A sign? A glimpse of her personality in whatever might be hanging on the walls or sitting on top of her dresser, or resting on the bedside table? Maybe even old photos I can check out of a young Alexandria?