Do we need to fit to fuck?
I’m getting mad right now just thinking about it.
“Were you two ever…together?” My words are tentative, unsure and I want to smack myself. The Alex of old would never be hesitant to ask her friend a question about a guy. I was always bold. Sometimes too bold. I had a very I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude and it got me into trouble more than once.
But now, I’m reserved. Quiet. Private. I don’t want people to figure me out. I’d rather tell them what they want to know and if I never tell them?
Then they didn’t need to know anything.
Kelli, I’ve let in. Somewhat. Her friends Jade and Lucy? I like them too but I don’t know them well enough to say much of anything yet.
So I keep my lips sealed. For now.
Kelli giggles and shakes her head. “No one is ever ‘together’ with Tristan. He fools around with girls but he never dates them.”
Of course. His remark makes even more sense to me. I hope his hair—his thick, rich brown, soft-looking hair—still smells like beer.
“Did you two then…” I wave a hand, feeling like a fool. I don’t want to say the words out loud. That might make them real. Because if Kelli’s ever—ugh, fucked Tristan Prescott then forget it.
“No. We never.” Kelli waves her hand much like I just did. “Here’s the deal. One night, I was down in the dumps over my boyfriend breaking up with me. Tristan was flirting with me the entire night, trying to make me feel better. We drank. A lot. I started hanging all over him and the next thing I knew, he was kissing me.”
I wait for more but she says nothing. Just resumes working on her homework, her pencil scratching over the paper annoyingly loud in the quiet of our section of the library.
“So that’s it?” I ask when I can’t stand it any longer.
Kelli laughs and turns to look at me. “What else can I say? The kiss was…bad. Awkward and weird and we concluded fast that we’re better off as just friends.”
“He’s a bad kisser?” I frown. He has nice lips. Well, they’re better when he’s keeping them shut because oh my God, he says the worst things.
“No, it just…it wasn’t right. There was no spark, no chemistry. It felt like kissing my brother.” She mock shudders for emphasis.
I have no brotherly feelings toward Tristan Prescott whatsoever. Mild irritation yes. Amusement, that too. Total anger, oh yeah, that came at me in spades when he made that shitty comment.
But I’m not mad anymore. I wouldn’t mind talking to him. Getting to know him.
He is the last person you should be getting to know. He’s like every other asshole you’ve gone out with in the past. You don’t need another rich, arrogant prick telling you what to do.
Sitting up straighter, I pull my book toward me, ready to focus on what actually needs to be done—my homework.
“Why are you asking about him?” I glance over at Kelli and she sends me a look. “Are you interested?”
“No,” I say firmly. Honestly. That little pep talk in my head did the trick. “He’s cute. But he’s not my type.”
“That’s never stopped anyone before,” she says dryly.
I glance up to meet her gaze. “I’ve had my fill of cocky rich boys,” I tell her. “He’s the type who’s all talk and no action.”
Kelli laughs, so loud she immediately clamps her hand over her mouth. “He’s a lot of talk and action,” she says once she drops her hand. “At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
Yikes. I don’t need to hear this. Doesn’t help that I haven’t had sex in what feels like forever. When your personal life falls apart all around you, you tend to forget about satisfying your needs. Not that any guy I knew prior to the collapse of my family’s life would’ve touched me after everything that happened. I quickly became a pariah by association.
Thanks, Mom and Dad.
“Not seeing anyone at the moment?” Kelli asks after we’re quiet for a few minutes.
I press my pencil so hard against my paper the lead point breaks off. “I’m trying to concentrate on school.”
“We all say that when we’re not getting any action.” I glare at her and she sticks her tongue out at me, making me laugh. “You should come out with me tomorrow. It’s Thirsty Tuesday.”
“Isn’t it supposed to be Thirsty Thursday?” I ask.
“Tomorrow is Tuesday,” she says slowly, like I don’t get it. “And my favorite bar does Thirsty Tuesday and Thursday. A double whammy.” Her face brightens. “It’s Ladies’ Night tonight. We should go.”
“It’s already so late…” My voice drifts. I was really looking forward to snuggling up in my bed and watching old Friends episodes on Netflix tonight. Or maybe Sex and the City.
“What, have you turned into an old lady? Come on.” She nudges me with her elbow.
“Yeah, come on. Ladies’ Night is the best.”
The deep male voice makes us both jerk our heads up at the same time. My heart falls to my stomach then immediately starts to pound when I see who it is.
“Are you sick? What are you doing in here?” Kelli asks incredulously.
“I have a paper due. And I’m supposed to include a real, actual book in the bibliography.” He holds up a book. “The professor is trying to teach us about the value of living without the Internet.”
Kelli snorts. “As if. Funny you should appear. Alex and I were just talking about you.”
I kick her under the table. Hard. She mutters a curse and sends me a glare as I smile serenely at Tristan, who is blatantly checking me out.
I feel warm under his gaze and blatantly check him out in return. He has on jeans and a navy blue hoodie. His hair is windblown and his jaw is covered in scruff. He screams sexy. My oversized black sweater and ratty jeans don’t scream sexy. More like they scream I don’t care. Well, the sloppy bun on my head and lack of makeup also scream I don’t care.
“Talking about me, huh?” He smiles, his gaze directed on me. “That’s promising.”
“She wanted to know if we’d ever…”
I kick Kelli again and this time she curses. Loudly. “Shit, Alex, that hurts.”
“Shut up,” I mutter.
Tristan starts to laugh. “That was a mistake,” he tells me, his gaze never straying. “The kiss. No offense, Kel.”
“None taken,” she answers quickly.
“You should go out tonight,” he says as he stuffs his hands into his pockets. “My treat.”
“The drinks are half off,” Kelli says. “That’s why he’s offering.”
“I shouldn’t.” I wave a shaky hand toward the statistics book. “I’m nowhere close to being finished.”
“I’ll help you.” He pulls out the chair closest to me and settles in, then tugs the book toward him. “I took this class.”
“You fail it?” Kelli asks.
“I got an A,” he says easily, snatching the paper out of my hands and glancing it over before lifting his gaze to mine. “I can help you. Both,” he adds.