Slow Play
Page 39

 Monica Murphy

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Knowing him he might act weird. I’m still baffled we only kissed a couple of times and then he left. I figured he’d try to make a move. A big move. Involving his big D.
Oh my God, I’m starting to sound like him in my thoughts. Clearly I have a problem.
“Whoa, what in the hell are you wearing?” Kelli asks.
I glance down at myself before I lift my head and meet her startled gaze. “Underwear?”
“That is some of the fanciest schmanciest underwear I’ve ever seen.” Kelli actually whistles. “Where did you get it?”
See, here’s the thing. Back in the day, when money was no object and I used my daddy’s credit card to buy whatever I wanted, I developed an underwear fetish. As in, I liked to spend top dollar on the finest lingerie I could find. Not that I was wearing it for a special guy. The serious relationships I had were few and far between, and the ones I did have weren’t particularly passionate.
But wearing delicate lace panties and a matching bra that costs more than the actual clothes I wore over them gave me this weird sense of power. Like I was wearing my armor beneath the regular clothes and no one had a clue. Sexy lingerie made me feel untouchable.
After everything that happened with my parents, I lost some of that power, and I definitely didn’t feel untouchable. When we got kicked out of our grand mansion, I shoved all my pretties in a box and tried to forget they existed. When I went through everything and stashed so much of it in storage, I brought the box of lace and silk with me here.
So the money may be gone but the undies remain. Not like I can bring it all into the consignment shop and sell my used panties—that’s gross. Besides, I didn’t want to get rid of them. I’ve rediscovered my love for my expensive lingerie collection and I’ve been wearing all sorts of stuff since the night Tristan came over. I put on this particular bra and panties set with Tristan in mind, hoping he’d catch a glimpse of them later tonight.
I sort of forgot myself and let Kelli get a full-on look at them right now.
“Victoria’s Secret I think, a long time ago.” Years ago. Black silk with white polka dots and trimmed in fine black lace, this set probably came from somewhere way more expensive but I didn’t want to say it. VS is common ground. Pretty much every girl on campus shops there.
“Tristan is going to shit.” Kelli throws her magazine down and sits up on the edge of the bed. “Seriously, Alex, you look hot. You actually have boobs.”
Ah, the brutal honesty of a friend. I know I’m flat chested. So does Kelli. She has no problem calling me out on it either. “This bra has really great lift.” I mess with the underwire and readjust the cups. Some guys call this false advertising. I just call it enhancing what I’ve already got.
“I’ll say. Tristan will want to lift those suckers right out of your bra.” She shakes her head. “God, I sound like a pervert. I blame my lacking sex life for this.”
Steven and Kelli are slowly circling around each other. They hang out. They talk. They text. They met for coffee twice. They went to a movie. He held her hand once—when they had to cross the street really fast. Otherwise, nothing is really happening.
And Kelli is frustrated.
“You need to make the first move,” I tell her as I go to my dresser and pull open a drawer, withdrawing my favorite dark blue sweater and shaking it out before I slipped it on. The color looks good against my skin and makes my eyes appear bluer. I shove up my sleeves and reach for the thin gold and silver bangles I used to wear all the time, stacking them on my wrist. “He’s afraid.”
“Scared guys are a pain in the ass,” Kelli mutters.
I slip a long necklace on over my head and turn to face her. “I had to be the one to make the first move with Steven. I advise you do the same.” I hold my arms out. “What do you think?”
“Great sweater. Love the jewelry. But you need pants.” Kelli narrows her eyes. “And what do you mean you had to make the first move?”
I can’t believe I frickin’ forgot to put on pants. Grabbing my favorite jeans, I slip them on hurriedly and then go in search of my knee high black leather boots that are underneath my bed. “I kissed him in the car the night we went to the movies.”
Kelli sucks in a loud breath. “You whore! Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”
Shrugging, I sit next to her and start pulling on my boots. “It was totally boring, that’s why.”
“It was bad? He’s a bad kisser? God, don’t tell me that. All the anticipation is starting to kill me.” She sounds worried.
“Between us it was bad. We had no chemistry. That was the night we decided we were better off as friends and he admitted to me that he liked you.”
“He has a funny way of showing it,” Kelli mutters.
“Please. You’re still getting to know each other. Steven moves slow, you knew this. But you two seem to have lots of chemistry. I’m sure when you finally do kiss Steven, it’ll be amazing,” I reassure her as I pull on my other boot, readjust them both around the knee and then stand. “Okay, now how’s my outfit?”
“Awesome. Pants really complete the look.” I stick my tongue out at her and she laughs.
“I’m nervous,” I admit as I slip the tiny diamond studs my parents gave me for my thirteenth birthday into my ears. “What if Lucy hates me?”
“Lucy adores you,” Kelli says. “You two already know each other. What’s there to be nervous about?”
“We barely know each other. I’m closer to Jade.” But Shep’s working at the casino tonight so he and Jade couldn’t go with us.
“You’ll be fine. Lucy won’t hate you. How could she? They might both hate Tristan on occasion but they definitely won’t hate you.” Kelli pauses, watching as I roam around my room, picking the discarded clothes off the floor and throwing them in my closet before I shut the door to hide the mess. “What should I do about Steven?”
“Are you two doing anything tonight?”
“I’m just hanging out here with the guys.” She shrugs, looking disappointed.
“Maybe you should suggest the two of you go out and do something, then make your move while you’re out? Or take him back to your place.” Kelli hates her roommate. They share a tiny apartment and her roommate’s dickish boyfriend is always there, making a mess and lazing around on the couch all day. “Get him in your room and work your magic on him.”
“What if he’s not interested in my magic?” she asks forlornly.
“Then he’s an idiot,” I say firmly, smoothing the front of my sweater out. “Do you think my idiot will like what I’m wearing?”
“He’s going to die when he sees you. And then when he gets your clothes off later and sees what you’re wearing underneath all that, he’s going to die all over again. It’ll be awesome. Make sure you take some pics on your phone and post them on Instagram to capture that moment.”
“Right. I’ll be sure to do that,” I say dryly, making us both laugh.
I can’t stop staring at Alexandria. From the moment I arrived at her house and caught sight of her standing in the open doorway, I about swallowed my tongue. That blue sweater she’s wearing hugs her in all the right places and for some reason her tits look extra amazing. The fabric is soft, making me want to constantly reach out and touch and her jeans are extra tight, those knee high boots emphasizing her long as hell legs.