“You feel it,” he whispers. “I touch you and it’s like electricity sparks between us. I look into your eyes and I feel like I’m fucking drowning. And when I kiss you, I never want to stop.”
I press my lips together, waiting for the touch of his mouth on mine. I expect it. Want it. So bad I can taste it.
But it doesn’t come.
Slowly I open my eyes to find him watching me, yet not touching me. “You know I can make it worth your while,” he murmurs as he runs his thumb across his jaw, across his lips. Lips I want to touch. It’s like he’s taunting me and I don’t doubt for an instant this is planned. He knows what he’s doing. “But you’re not brave enough to let go.”
“Are you calling me a chicken?” I ask.
He nods, a tiny smile curving his perfect mouth. “Yeah.”
“If you think that’s going to spring me into action, you’re wrong.” I shift away from the wall and circle around him, drawing closer to my bed. “It’s late. You should go.”
“Sure.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and hunches his shoulders, his face completely unreadable. Downright innocent looking, which is not very Tristan-like. “Whatever you want, Alexandria.”
“I want you to leave,” I say again, more to myself than to him.
“Okay. I’m leaving.” His smile grows. “Can I text you tomorrow?”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”
He chuckles and makes his way toward the door. I ignore the disappointment crashing through me. He needs to go. His being here is dangerous. I’ll do something crazy like let him stay. Take off his clothes. Take off my clothes. Slip into my bed. Together. Just the two of us.
And it would be amazing.
“See that’s the thing about your nice guy Steven. He asks if he can text you, if he can see you. And you always say yes.” He turns to face me. “When I asked just now, you say no. But it works for him. He’s so damn polite you can’t help but agree, right?”
I nod slowly, wondering where he’s going with this.
“Me? I don’t ask. I just take. I don’t smile and kick the ground, act like I’m some bashful asshole, hoping like hell you fall for it. I don’t waste my time with games. I go after what I want.”
His blunt and twisted honesty is somehow working on me. “And what do you want?”
“You.” He takes three steps and he’s suddenly in front of me, his hand curling around my neck as he pulls me in, pressing a hard, quick kiss to my lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmurs, releasing his hold on me and going back to the door.
I say nothing, my lips still tingling from his kiss. He opens the door, turning to face me with a smile. “Night Alexandria.”
The door shuts behind him before I can say another word.
“You’re mean.” I slump into the chair and glare at Kelli from across the table. She sips from her Starbucks cup, the little smile she’s wearing smug as hell. “Why are we meeting so early on a Sunday again?”
“To get this hellish task over and done with for the day. Kind of like ripping off a Band Aid you know? Quick and easy,” she says with a yawn. Guess the Starbucks isn’t kicking in just yet. “Besides, it’s not that early.”
“It’s ten.”
“So?”
I say nothing, leaping from the chair when I hear my name called. I grab my drink from the counter and head back to our table, hoping the triple espresso shot I added to my regular PSL will do the trick and wake me up.
Yet again another bad night of restless sleep. What a surprise. All I could do was run over everything that happened in my mind, the moments playing in a constant loop. The kiss. The kisses. I couldn’t let those go when I should. I so should. He’s such a player he’s probably already kissed two girls since he was last with me. The asshole.
Tristan is going to drive me to taking sleeping pills I’m sure.
“Is ten really too early for you on a Sunday morning?” Kelli asks when I settle back in at our table. She sounds concerned, which is hilarious. Though Mama Kelli does rear her ugly head on such occasions.
“Well, yeah. With school and now my new work schedule in the mix, I think Sunday’s going to end up being my one morning I get to really sleep in, you know? So I