Slow Play (The Rules #3)(43)

But all I could see and feel was Alexandria watching me the entire time I halfheartedly flirted with Toni. The disappointment on Alexandria’s face was clear. The disgust. Kelli was shooting daggers at me with her eyes and I could feel every single one of them piercing my skin, reminding me that I’m an *. A cold hearted, careless dick who doesn’t deserve a good girl.

No matter how badly I want that good girl.

I hated myself at that moment. Had opened my mouth to let Toni know she needed to go on her merry way when Shep broke us up and practically shoved Toni out the door, Jade following after them. It saved me from having to tell her no and I appreciated that. But I figured I’d be in trouble with Shep and Jade later.

What else is new?

“I really don’t want to go to your room,” Alexandria says, yanking her arm out of my grip. We’re only halfway up the stairs and I turn to look at her, fear swirling in my gut when I realize she’s headed back down. As if she’s going to walk right out of my life and never return.

“Shit,” I mutter, chasing after her. I snag onto the hem of her sweater, grabbing a handful of soft fabric as we both land on the bottom of the steps. I scoop her up into my arms—though seriously, I have no right—and pin her against the wall, the both of us breathing hard, our chests rising and falling in tandem. Together. “Hear me out.”

She shakes her head, keeping her face averted. “I should go.”

“I’m a dick.”

“Yes, you are.” She still won’t look at me.

“I’m also drunk.”

“That doesn’t excuse your behavior.”

I close my eyes and breathe through my nose, trying to get my jumbled thoughts together. Having her so close makes it hard. Makes my dick hard too. Her scent surrounds me, wild and sweet. Her soft hair tickles the side of my face. Hell, her entire body is soft as it molds to mine and I’m consumed with the need to touch her. Kiss her. Take her.

Make her mine.

“You have five minutes,” she murmurs. “And I’m not going up to your room. So you better get to talking.”

My eyes pop open and I reach for her, my fingers curling around her chin. “Look at me.”

She shakes her head once.

“If all I’m getting is five minutes of your time, the least you could do is look at me when I talk to you.” I stroke her chin with my thumb. Softly. Slowly. A shuddering breath leaves her as she turns to face me, her eyes wary.

“You make me want things I shouldn’t want,” I admit. Her brows knit in confusion and I know I’m on the wrong track. “You make me feel things I’ve—never felt. I think about you all the damn time and I don’t do that about any girl.”

Her brow relaxes and interest flares in her eyes. “Go on,” she urges softly.

Am I really going to tell her the truth? “I tried to pretend that you didn’t matter. After you ran out on me at Starbucks, I told myself I didn’t want to be interested in you, so I shut you out. Avoided you as best I could.”

“You did a really good job,” she says dryly.

I let go of her chin, sliding my hand across her cheek, up into her hair. “But when I found out you were coming to Jade’s party, all I could think about was you. Knowing you were here tonight, in my house, and Jade wanted us gone just about f*cking killed me. I wanted to see you. Hear your voice, smell your perfume, make you laugh.” I cup the back of her head, my fingers tangling in the soft strands of her hair.

She stares up at me, those luminous blue eyes seeming to eat me up. “You didn’t even look at me when you first walked into the room. That…hurt.”

“It hurt to f*cking see you,” I admit.

“Why?” she whispers.

I ignore her question. How can I answer when I don’t know what to say? “I don’t understand why I’m so fixated.” I lean in, pressing my forehead to hers. I see her waver in how her shoulders relax, her hands going to my chest, resting there lightly.

Just her touching me twists me up inside. I don’t f*cking get it.

“You have a funny way of showing your fixation.” Her voice is small, full of irritation. I still don’t have her convinced. “And you have three minutes left.”

Three minutes to make this right. Three minutes to prove that I want more from her. What exactly do I want? I don’t know how to ask. I warned her before that all I do is take. I don’t know any other way. If I had my choice I’d drag her up to my bedroom, lock the door and push her onto the bed. Fall on top of her and never let her go for the rest of the night.

But is that all I want? One night? That’s all I should want. That’s all I can allow myself to want.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and count to three.

His forehead is pressed against mine, his eyes tightly closed, a low exhale falling from his perfect mouth. He’s so close we’re sharing the same air, I can practically count the outrageous number of thick black lashes that rim his eyes and it would take nothing for our mouths to meet. A little shift here, a lift of the chin there and we’d be kissing.

But I can’t let him kiss me. Not when I’m still mad at him. I’m so tense waiting for his next words I feel like I could shatter. Fully prepared for him to say something terrible. Awful.

Like usual.