Reckless Alexis. I can feel myself becoming her.
In the back of my mind, that voice—the one that belongs to the Before Alexis—begs me to stop. That I’m going to ruin everything. But the more drinks I have, the more I can’t hear her.
And, in the end, there’s nothing but silence.
But I know that, eventually, I’m going to crash, and then it’s all going to catch up with me.
A handful of hours later, I'm sitting on the sofa in the living room with my back angled at West. Holden is having a phone conversation with someone in the kitchen, and Ellis is working on his computer, but not on my phone. He said he had to take a break from that to do work stuff, but I'm not quite sure where he works, and he seemed really hesitant when I asked. He assured me, though, that he'd start working on it again soon, and that he downloaded a program onto my phone that will make it, so I don't have to leave my phone with him. It seemed kind of sketchy, but West assured me it'd be fine. And I trust him.
I trust West? Where the hell did that come from?
Yeah, that thought’s been plaguing my mind since I thought it.
I trust West. West, who’s currently sitting behind me and playing with my hair.
We haven't really talked about the video or the dark secret I piled onto him. He's been keeping the conversation light, and I've been latching onto that kind act he's offering, focusing on being my joking and smartass self. I can tell he wants to say more, but he doesn't. And I'm grateful for that.
“Are you gonna play with my hair all night?” I joke as I bring my legs up onto the sofa.
He combs his fingers through my hair. “That all depends.”
“On what?”
“On if you’re going to spend the night?”
“I really doubt Loki is going to be cool with that.”
“True. I’m just a little bit worried about getting you home.”
“True.” I hadn’t really thought about that before I took those shots.
And while I want to believe that maybe I would have—maybe I would’ve been Rational Alexis for once—I doubt it.
“Maybe one of your friends can drive me home,” I suggest.
"Everyone's drunk and stoned. We might be able to walk, but I think it's like ten miles. And with… everything going on, I don’t like the idea of you being out like that past dark.”
“Yeah, I agree.” I fish my phone out of my pocket.
He leans over my shoulder. “What’re you doing?”
“Texting Loki and asking him if I can spend the night at Masie’s.”
“Does he not know about your guys’ fight?”
“Actually, he does.” I rack my mind for a better cover story. “I’ll just tell him we made up, and that's why I want to spend the night."
He sweeps my hair to the side. “You think he’ll go for that?”
I shrug. “I guess we’ll find out.”
“Fingers crossed that he’s cool with it.” He holds up his crossed fingers. “Because if you spend the night, it means we get to spend all night braiding each other’s hair and painting each other’s fingernails and toenails.”
I give him a really look. “You’re seriously going to do that with me if I stay over?”
“Yep.” He smiles. “That is what you said BFF’s do.”
“No, I told you that’s not what BFF’s do.” I wait for him to tell me he’s kidding about the whole nail painting and braiding hair thing, but he doesn’t. I study him closely, wondering if he’s being serious or not, but I honestly can’t tell. “Do you even have fingernail polish?”
He grins proudly. “Yep. One color. Midnight Black.”
“I guess that could work.” Actually, it’s kind of perfect, the color matching my mood at the moment.
Although, I am feeling a bit better right now, but I’m not sure if that’s because of the alcohol or West. Maybe a little bit of both.
West is making me feel better.
I don’t know what to do with that revelation, so I don’t do anything with it.
Instead, I focus on trying to come up with a message to send to Loki that won’t seem suspicious.
Me: Hey, so I know I'm kind of in trouble, but I'm at Masie's, and we made up, and I really want to spend the night so we can hang out. Can I please do that? I'll owe you big time.
As I hit send, I realize I rarely ask for his permission to do anything. I just do it.
So much for not seeming suspicious.
It takes him about a minute to respond, which seems a bit weird for him. Usually, he's an instantaneous replier.
Loki: Yeah, go ahead. There's some stuff going on with Zhara that I need to deal with anyway. Nik is actually spending the night at his friends too, so it'll give me time to focus on this. Just please stay out of trouble. I'm trusting you right now.
Stuff with Zhara.
That probably means she told him about the road trip thing.
I wonder how it went.
Me: Okay, and thanks.
Thanks? Look at me, being polite. Who is this version of Alexis?
Loki: You’re welcome. And thanks for asking this time instead of just not coming home.
I feel a bit bad for lying to him as I put away my phone, but not enough to go home. I’m too much of a mess right now anyway, and it’d only bring more problems.
“So, are we having a sleepover or what?” West asks me.
“Yeah, we’re good. But please stop calling it a sleepover.”
“Why?” He bats his eyelashes innocently. “That’s what it is.”
“No, it’s not. I’m just sleeping over at your place, something I’ve done before.”
He muses over something with a smile on his face. “Yeah, I remember.”
I twist around to get a better look at him. “Why’re you smiling like that?”
He lifts a shoulder, continuing to smile that way. “I was just thinking about when you slept over at my place that time.”
“But you look amused, like you think something’s funny.”
“Nah. I’m just reminiscing.”
“No, that’s not what it is—”
He places a finger over my lips, shushing me. “Stop worrying about this. There’s nothing to worry about.” Then he lowers his fingers from my lips, but only to return them to my hair. “Now, what kind of a braid are we thinking? French braid? Fishtail braid? Dutch braid?”
I turn my back to him and relax as he messes around with my hair. Maybe tomorrow I'll regret all of this. Probably. But right now, I'm way too content to care. I like the distraction from everything, and I'm going to dig my claws into it as hard as I can.
For now, anyway.
“Do you even know how to do any of those braids?” I ask.
"No. But I'm sure I can find a video online and figure it out." His fingers sweep through the strands of my hair. It feels so good that my eyes start to drift shut. "Or you can just do me first, and I can learn from that."
I'm a little buzzed, and only half of his words register in my hazy brain. But the words that do… "I can do you first... what?"
His fingers stop combing through my hair. “Did your mind just go to the gutter?”
“No,” I lie, glad he can’t see my face because my cheeks are so, so warm.
“Liar,” he breathes into my ear.
The way his breath dances across my skin makes me think of how he gently sucked on my neck the other day. And like that time, I shiver a little, goosebumps sprouting across my flesh. The reaction, it pulsates through me, and the alcohol swimming through my veins. I may have managed a freak out if Holden didn’t enter the room.
“So, I’m having a few people over,” he announces then gives West a look. “My boss is one of them. Just want to give you a heads up since you’re having a,” he rolls his eyes, “Sleepover or whatever.”
"Okay." West stares at Holden, and Holden stares back.
Again, I feel like they’re trying to have a silent conversation, and like the first time,
it bugs me.
What’s with all the secrecy?
“Do I need to be around?” West finally asks him. “Or can I bail out for tonight?”
Holden's gaze flicks to me then back to West. "You're cool for tonight, but tomorrow you should probably hang with us." He angles his head back and takes a swing of his beer then lowers the mouth of the bottle from his lips. "You might want to do your little sleepover thing in your room, though. I don't know what the hell these guys will do if they show up here and you two are," he pauses then shakes his head, "Braiding each other's hair and painting each other's toenails."
“Don’t dis it until you try it,” West tells him as he gets to his feet.
“Yeah, that’s never gonna happen,” Holden tells him, his face contorted in disgust.
“Only because you don’t have any hair to braid,” Ellis jokes, his gaze fixed on the computer screen.
West presses back a laugh while Holden narrows his eyes at Ellis.
“You’re really going to go there?” he questions.
Ellis shrugs. “You’re the one giving him shit about braiding her hair when it’s not a big deal.”
“That’s a matter of opinion,” Holden argues, sinking down onto the sofa and reaching for a joint he was rolling earlier.
“No, it’s not,” Ellis insists, making Holden’s jaw tick.
The two of them start bickering like a couple of old dudes.
“Come with me,” West mouths as he laces his fingers through mine and pulls me to my feet.
I'm surprised by how easily I follow him into his room, considering the last time I was in there with him, we ended up kissing.
But I'm comfortable right now, so I roll with it. Besides, we're going in there to braid hair and paint toenails, so yeah, it doesn't seem like any kissing will happen.
That is unless he was kidding about the whole thing.
“Are you really going to braid my hair and paint my toenails?” I ask as he lets go of my hand and sinks down onto the air mattress.
He nods, his lips quirking as he slips off his boots. “Of course. I never joke about hair braiding and fingernail painting.”
“You’re so weird.” But I guess so am I.
So I plop down beside him and take off my boots as well.
“My feet probably stink,” I tease him as I take off my socks.
He smirks. “What else is new?”
I playfully nudge him in the shoulder. “My feet don’t stink.”
"You're the one who said it." Grinning, he scoots back across the air mattress and leans against the wall. Then he pats the spot between his legs.
I hesitate before telling myself screw it and slide up until I'm nestled between his legs, and my back is facing him. Then I get comfortable while he starts looking up braid tutorials on the Internet.
The whole situation is bizarre as hell, but weirdly not awkward. I find that odd. West and I have always butted heads, yet here we are hanging out, and it's not awkward. Sure, we've been talking shit to each other all night, but we were mostly playing around. Maybe it's the shots we had earlier. Or the hits. Or maybe it's because we decided to try to be friends. Or maybe it's the fact that he discovered my secret and didn't make me feel worse about it.
That’s a lot of maybes. I wonder what the hell that means.
“Dude, this one looks so awesome, but I’m not sure if I can do it,” West says, drawing me from my thoughts.
Then he holds the phone in front of me so I can see what he’s looking at.
No matter how bitchy I can get, no matter how much I try not to feel things, I can’t stop a smile from spreading across my face. The situation is just so amusing. West is so amusing.
Amused Alexis.
Well, Amused and Buzzed Alexis.
"What do you think?" He leans over my shoulder to look at my expression, then confusion floods his eyes. "What's that look for?"
“What look?”
“That cute little smile on your face.”
I roll my eyes. “My smiles aren’t cute, dude.”
Now he’s the one to roll his eyes. “Yeah, they are, baby.”
I give him a dirty look, but don’t actually feel the annoyance. It’s just an act. A habit. “No, what’s cute is that you’re sitting here looking at braids online.”
“Well, obviously,” he quips with a grin. “I always look adorable.”
I start to snort a laugh when he dips his head and brushes his lips against mine. He doesn’t deepen the kiss, simply leaning back and clearing his throat. Then he reclines back against the wall and picks up his phone.
"So, do you think I can pull off this braid or what?" he asks.
My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat, and I have to swallow hard several times before I can be certain my voice will come out even.
“It doesn’t hurt to try.”
He sets the phone down beside us and cracks his knuckles. “Okay, then let’s give it a try.”
I nod, still struggling to speak evenly because my stupid heart won’t settle down.
It was just a soft kiss.
A light brush of lips.
An exchange of a breath.
Just air and a slight touch.
Nothing more.
Yet, I feel like air has been pumped into my lungs for the first time in a long time.
Soft kisses might be more dangerous than deep kisses.
“I’m sorry,” he suddenly says.
My brows pull together. “For what?”
“For kissing you.” A short pause. “Again.”
I wet my dry lips with my tongue. “Why do you keep doing it and then apologizing for doing it?”
“Honestly.” Another pause as he softly plays with my hair. “Because I like kissing you, even though I know I shouldn’t.”
I like kissing you too. I don’t want to, but I do.
Thankfully, those words remain sealed in my dry lips, and he lets the subject drop as he gathers my hair into his hands.
"All right, let's get this braiding party started." And just like that, he goes back to his joking self.
I wonder how much of it’s real, though.
“You have so much hair,” he murmurs after a minute ticks by of him struggling to figure out the first step.
I lean into his touch. Yeah, I may be tough, but apparently, I'm weak when it comes to him playing with my hair.
“So much hair,” he murmurs again then curses. “Shit, I suck at this.”
I snort a laugh.
“You think this is funny?” He pretends to be offended.
A smile curves across my lips. “Yep.”
He laughs under his breath. “We’ll see if you still think it’s funny when you have the prettiest braid ever.”
He sinks into silence again as he attempts to do the first step again.
As silence settles between us, my worries slowly drift back to me. That video. Who took it? Why? To blackmail me? What do they want? Who is they? Jay? And what did they mean by they’re going to have he fun I took away from them.
“What do you think they want from me?” The words leave my lips unintentionally.
“Who?” he replies distractedly as his fingers become tangled in my hair.
“This person that’s sending me the texts?” I fiddle with a leather band on my wrist to distract myself from the worry trying to press against my chest. "I mean, why break into my house and steal that necklace? And why send me these texts? And that video … It … That stuff…" I struggle to breathe evenly. "That happened a while ago, so either they've been planning this for a while, or it's someone who just got a hold of the video and has a vendetta against me. And it kind of sounded like it with that whole thing they said about having the fun with me that I took away from them.”
“Yeah, I thought that was weird too.” He pauses. “I know I don’t know any of those answers yet,” he replies, lowering his hands and looping them around my waist. “Let me stress the yet part because I will fi
nd out."
“Yeah, but…” I anxiously nibble on my bottom lip. “What’re we going to do even if we do figure out who it is? They’ll still have the video and can use that against me.”
“There’re are ways of shutting up blackmailers, Lex.” The way he says it makes me wonder…
I glance at him. “Why does that sound like you’re speaking from experience?”
He shrugs. “Not personal experience, but my parents, they have a lot of secrets. Secrets that people have found out, yet they still manage to maintain an excellent image in this town.”
"So, you want to handle this the way your parents handle things?"
"Not really. I'm just saying that there're ways to shut up a blackmailer." Wisps of his blonde hair fall into his eyes as he leans in and traces a path along my jawline with the pad of his thumb. "I'm going to protect you." My lips part in a protest, but he places his fingertip over them. "You can protect yourself too, but I want to help." He lowers his thumb and carries my gaze. "We can be a team."
This moment is getting way, way too heavy for me, so I crack a joke.
“A team that braids each other’s hair? Or well, tries too.”
“Hey, I’ll get there,” he promises me. “Just give me some time to figure it out.” Then he lightly tugs on a strand of my hair, sits back, and starts trying to braid my hair again.
He keeps talking about how he’s going to help me. Just him helping me. I don’t like that feeling, this one-sided helping thing. If I’m going to accept his help then maybe I should offer him mine. Although, it’s been a long damn time since I’ve helped out with anything.
I should tell say it, say my thoughts aloud. That I’ll help him. That I’ll be there for him.
But the words won’t leave my lips. Not because I don’t want to help him. Because I’m afraid. Afraid that we’re already getting too close and helping him will only lead to more closeness.
Afraid Alexis.
She’s back. Again.
And I don’t like it at all. It makes me feel restless and unsettled. Makes me long for a spray can. But I can’t do that. I know this. So I do the only thing I can think of. I focus on West’s fingers in my hair and how relaxed it makes me feel, the heat of him seeping through me, the way his legs are wrapped around mine.
Signed with a Kiss: A Novel (Signed with a Kiss Series Book 1) Page 22
