How can I do that when I don’t understand my motives myself?
“Because you’re extremely fuckable?” I wince the moment the words leave my mouth and she glares. Girls at a bar on a Thursday night three drinks in love it when I say they’re fuckable. They fall for that line every single time.
Sunday morning at a Starbucks cramming for a stats test…I’m thinking fuckable doesn’t work.
“You make me sound like a dirty stuffed animal. ‘Oh, she’s so adorably fuckable’.” Alexandria makes a face.
“Maybe that was a bad choice of words,” I start but she cuts me off.
“You think?”
“I know,” I stress. “And I take it back. You’re not fuckable.”
Oh, look at that. Her expression changes and she looks downright sad that I took back the fuckable remark. Make up your mind, gorgeous. You either want my attention or not.
“Are you two fighting?” Kelli asks as she settles back into her seat.
“I’m done.” Alexandria pulls her book away from me and slams it shut, then stuffs it into her backpack. “Either I’ve got this or I don’t. Thanks for your help, Tristan,” she says, not even bothering to look at me as she stands. “See you tomorrow in class, Kelli.”
She buzzes out of the Starbucks before Kelli or I can say anything to stop her.
“That was weird,” Kelli says slowly, sipping from her drink. “What just happened?”
“I don’t know.” I study the door, wishing she would come back. Wishing more that I could chase after her. But I don’t chase after women. Not like this. The conquest happens because they come to me. I draw them in like bees to honey. It’s easy. Smile, say something flirty, drop an innuendo, make eye contact, touch them and bam. They’re yours for the night. Sometimes they’d like to be yours beyond the night but I never let them get to that point. Not really. Unless they’re psycho and have wedding dreams from the first moment they meet you.
I had one of those my freshman year. Scariest shit ever. She was a straight up stalker. Gabe and Shep found it hilarious.
They would.
“You said something to offend her.” Kelli states this, not asking like a normal person would.
“I don’t know.” I throw my hands up into the air, frustration slipping through my veins. “She’s hard to read.”
“She says the same thing about you.”
I go still. “She does?”
Kelli nods, still sipping from her drink. The stats book lies between us, totally forgotten. Now that Alexandria is gone, I don’t want to help. I don’t even want to look at that stupid book.
Sorry Kelli.
“What else does she say about me?” I ask when Kelli still hasn’t said anything.
“Nothing much. She’s trying to resist you.”
No shit.
“She likes Steven but isn’t into him.”
“And you know this how?”
Kelli arches a brow. “Are you worried Steven is going to steal her from under your nose?”
“There’s nothing to steal. I’m not interested in her in that way.” Kelli’s brow goes even higher. How does she do that? “I’m serious. Steven wants to buy her flowers and take her out and make her his girlfriend. I just want to get her naked and have sweaty, amazing sex with her.”
“You don’t usually spend so much time in hot pursuit of one girl,” Kelli points out. “You’re not acting normal.”
“What is normal anyway?”
“For you? Let’s see.” She taps her finger against her pursed lips, contemplating my question. I practically squirm in my seat. I don’t want to hear this, especially from Kelli who’s been watching me for a while now. “One woman after the other, one for every night of the week. A little moody, a lot grumpy, always giving your friends shit when they decide to settle down.”
I don’t look at her. She’s right.
“I’m getting the sense that when it was the three of you against the world, you were happy. Comfortable. In your element.” Kelli pauses and I glance up to see that she’s watching me with what—sympathy in her eyes? Please. I get more tail now than I ever did when I had to split it with Gabe and Shep. “They’ve changed it up on you and you’re scrambling. The lone wolf among all the salivating women lined up wanting a piece of you.”
“Is that how you see it?”
“Kind of,” she admits. “Is that all you see when you look at Alex? Another piece of ass?”
No. And that’s the scary part. I would never admit that to Kelli. She wouldn’t understand. Or she’d run off and tell Alexandria. Fuck that. If I can’t work up the nerve to admit it, then no one else is doing it for me.
I immediately break out into a sweat. Do I actually like Alexandria? As in, do I want to spend time with her beyond the usual fucking around and being done with it?
Yes.
Nooo. I don’t believe it. I can’t believe it. My anti-relationship stance is still firmly in place. I’m just like Dad. My mom has said that more than once when I was growing up. He’s a decent guy, hard working to the point of obsessive. Sometimes a little callous. Has a hard time showing affection. When pushed he’ll joke around with enough bite beneath the words to make you feel like shit. I know if I were to become involved with a woman, I’ll most likely end up treating her just like Dad treated Mom. Driving them away, driving them to drink, pushing them into another man’s arms, pushing them into madness.
I can’t do it. I refuse to do it. Better to be alone than to make someone you might care about absolutely miserable.
“She’s a pretty fine piece of ass, don’t you think?” I say with a smirk as I stand, grabbing my empty coffee cup so I can throw it in the garbage on my way out. “Gotta go, K. Hope you do well on your test tomorrow.”
“Tristan, wait,” she calls after me but I ignore her. I toss the cup into the trash, offer the barista a flirtatious smile and a wave and then get the hell out of there.
My plan to earn my way into Alexandria’s good graces didn’t work out quite like I wanted to. Maybe I should move on.
Or maybe I should move on to plan B.
“Steven asked me out,” I say conversationally, waiting for the impending reaction.
It comes within seconds, as expected.
“Get out.” Kelli shoves my shoulder with the tips of her fingers and I make like I’m going to fall over. “Why are you wasting your time on that guy?”
I shrug, watching him in my living room, in his usual perch on the beanbag playing video games with Conrad. “He’s nice. I like how attentive he is.”
“Suffocating.” Kelli yawns.
“He’s funny.”
“If you like nerds.”
“Oh my God, are we still in high school?” I turn to glare at her. “He’s smart, he’s cute and he’s respectful. What more could I ask for?”
“I don’t know, maybe melting hot passion? Undeniable chemistry?” She peers at me, her narrowed eyes trying their best to see everything. I throw up that wall that I’ve become so good at, blocking her attempts. “Do you feel any of that with good ol’ Steven?”
I scowl. “You’re being mean.”
Her eyes pop wide, her expression one of complete innocence. We’re sitting at the small dining room table going over our stats homework on an otherwise boring Monday night. We got our grades back on our tests that we took a week ago—I got a C+. Kelli got a B-. Clearly she wasn’t as distracted by our study guide as I was.
I refuse to think of his name. It’s easier that way.
“How in the world am I being mean? I’m asking you a simple question, that’s it. Have you even kissed that guy?” She waves a hand in the general direction of the living room.
“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “He hasn’t made a move yet.”