Slow Play (The Rules #3)(42)

“I thought you already left.” I can feel him approach and I stiffen my spine, hoping he can read my don’t touch vibes.

“We’re leaving now.” I cross my arms in front of me, keeping my gaze straight ahead. I refuse to look at him.

“Whose we?”

“Me and Kelli.” He needs to go. Like, right now. I send him a quick glance before I look away. “Where’s your friend?”

I did not mean to ask that. I sound like a jealous shrew.

“If you’re talking about Toni, she left. Shep and Jade are helping her load up her car.” He moves so he’s standing directly in front of me and I tear my gaze away from his. I don’t want to look at him, stare into his pretty eyes, hear his pretty words. They’re meaningless. “You’re mad at me.”

He’s so infuriating. Why can’t he not speak his mind for once in his life? “I’m nothing at you. I wouldn’t care if you started f*cking her in front of us in the living room. You can do whatever you want. I don’t own you.” I dare to look at his face just in time to see pain flash in his eyes.

Good.

“I don’t owe you anything.” His words are like a knife to my heart and I start to walk away but he grabs my arm, keeping me from leaving. I keep my head bent, trying to ignore the way my skin sizzles from his touch. “Yet I feel like an * for what I did.”

“You should.” I look into his eyes again, searching for the lies, the arrogance, the mocking. But none of it is there. The mask has dropped. He looks downright tortured.

Exposed.

He nods. “I do. I don’t understand why. What are you doing to me, Alexandria?” He says those last words in a harsh whisper and my resistance starts to crack.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Kelli’s voice startles us both and we spring away from each other, Tristan releasing his hold on me. “Let’s go, Alex.” She takes my arm and starts to tug me away from him. I let her.

“We need to talk,” he says.

“You had your chance,” Kelli tells him.

“Wait.” I stop her from dragging me to the door by digging in my heels. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

Kelli sends me an incredulous look. “What are you saying? You’re insane,” she whispers.

“You’re right. I am.” Oh God, I really hope I don’t regret what I’m about to do. “I know I shouldn’t, but I want to hear what he has to say. I’m curious.” How can I explain that I’m so drawn to him I can’t help but agree to whatever he requests? If I admit that I’ll sound like an idiot. One of those submissive girls who’ll do whatever the big macho man says.

It’s not about that with Tristan and I. There’s more here. I think we’re just scratching the surface. And though it might be a mistake and I might be setting myself up for a lot of pain later, I need to hear him explain his actions.

I need to figure out if he’s with me or if I’m alone in this…mess.

She glares at him for a long, tense moment before returning her gaze to mine. “You shouldn’t,” she says loudly. “He’s not worth your time.”

“You’re right. I know,” I whisper. “Just give me—ten minutes. Text me and I’ll meet you out at the car.” I reach out and grab her hand, giving it a squeeze. “Please?”

“Everything is telling me I should just shove you into my bug and get us the hell out of here,” she says, her voice low. “But whatever. It’s your funeral. You’ve got ten minutes and then I’m gone.”

With that, she walks away.

Leaving me alone with Tristan.

I’ve got her where I want her. I can’t even believe she’s going to listen to me. My biggest problem?

I have no idea what I’m going to say.

“So.” Alexandria crosses her arms in front of her, all defensive bristly girl. Not that I can blame her. I asked for this. “Talk.”

I glance around the short hall that’s just off the kitchen. “I can’t talk to you here.”

“You have nine minutes,” she reminds me as I hook my arm around hers and start walking. She follows, her body snug against my side and I pull her in as close as I can. “Where are we going?”

“My room,” I tell her as I lead her up the stairs. I’m determined to get her alone, beg her for…what? Forgiveness? I don’t say I’m sorry. Ever. I’m not sorry for what I’ve done, what I’ve said, who I am. This is me, flaws and all. If whoever’s in my life can’t accept me, then I don’t need them.

Seeing Alexandria sitting on that couch rendered me stupid. So f*cking beautiful with her hair falling past her shoulders in gentle waves, cheeks rosy, eyes so f*cking blue, like the sky on a perfect spring day. Wearing a white oversized sweater that somehow made her look virginal—like an angel.

Not for me. Those are the three words that ran on a continuous loop inside my head. She’s not for me. I’m not worthy. I wouldn’t treat her right, no matter how hard I tried. So I went for the one I knew I was worthy of—that horny chick Toni. She was all over me. I could’ve invited her to stay and she would’ve said yes. Would’ve guaranteed myself a blowjob at the minimum, a night of heavy duty f*cking at the absolute maximum.