Slow Play (The Rules #3)(50)

“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 f*cking 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 f*cking 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.