03

“Not without my invitation.” By that point, I didn’t think he even wanted to go anymore. I figured he was only insisting out of spite.

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Do you really think so little of your ability to have children in the future ?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. Do you really want to test me, Noel ?”

I wondered if he remembered that I just so happened to be a certified black belt. He was starting to look a little less brave, but still, he carried on. “Maybe I do.”

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Jack said, finally stepping in. I subtly shook my head at him. What was he doing, waiting until then to step in ? He was my bodyguard ! I mean, true, I’d been handling myself just fine without him, but still. “I would leave Emma alone if I were you.”

Looking up at my bodyguard—who was six foot six and two-hundred fifty pounds of hard muscle—Noel suddenly looked a lot less brave. “Sounds good to me,” he said. “I’ll just be going now…”

“Jack, must you ruin my fun ?” I asked, watching Noel walk away. “Things were just starting to get interesting.”

“Your idea of fun is rather disturbing.”

I smiled wickedly. “I know. But you know that just makes your life more interesting.”

“Babe, I gotta go,” I said, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Jesus Christ. If this was how this girl acted in what was supposed to be a relationship with no strings attached, how would she act if I’d done as she wanted and made her my girlfriend ? I shuddered at the thought.

“Why can’t you stay a little longer ?” Her pout had turned into a shrill, demanding tone, and when she spoke, she sat up, letting the sheet fall away from her body.

I don’t know how I did it. To this day, I still don’t know how I did it, but I somehow managed to ignore my hormones and say, “I just can’t. Sorry, babe. I’ll call you sometime.” Keeping my gaze on her face was a struggle, but I knew if I looked downwards, I’d fall into the temptation to sleep with her again.

“Sometime ?” Her shrill tone had now turned into a piercing screech, and I flinched at the sound. “Willy-Bear, I am tired of hearing ‘sometime’ and ‘maybe !’ I want something concrete ! I want something real !”

I was too focused on the atrocious nickname to realize what she was saying at first, to be honest. Willy-Bear ? Come on ! Of all the nicknames in the world. Why couldn’t girls ever pick a manly nickname, like Big Daddy or Stud or Tank ? No, I had it ! Pimp Daddy. Why couldn’t girls ever call me Pimp Daddy ?

“Willy-Bear ? Hello ?”

Oh, God, how had I not noticed this before ? I mean, I’d been a victim to some of the worst pet names in the world, but Willy-Bear had to be one of the very worst. Among Willy-Bear’s top competitors were Snugglebunny, Honeybucket, Pookie, and Foofie Poops. That last one was understandably at the top of the list. Why a girl would choose a nickname involving what goes on in her toilet was beyond me.

“Will ?”

I still didn’t reply, too horrified by the prospect of being called Willy-Bear in public, or worse, in front of my brother, Eric. He’d never let me live that one down.

“Are you even listening to me ?” All of a sudden, she was right in my face, glaring down at me.

I quickly backed up, grabbing my jeans and shirt as I did. “Listen, Natasha—”

“Natasha ?” she cried, nearly falling over as she abruptly backed away. “My name is Natalie !”

Shit. See ? This was why I used pet names myself, although mine were a million times better than the ones girls gave me. I stuck with the simple ones : babe, baby, sweetheart. I wasn’t sure why I made the mistake of attempting to remember her name. Maybe I subconsciously wanted to get her off my back. I couldn’t blame myself ; she was a nightmare.

“That’s what I meant,” I said. “Listen, Natalie. I don’t think we should hang out anymore.” Hang out was the PG way to phrase what we were doing, if you know what I mean.

“What ?” Her face fell. “Is this about my pushiness ? Because if it is, I’m sorry, Willy-Bear ! I didn’t meant to pressure you. Please forgive me !”

I shook my head. “I just need… space. Yeah, space.” Yeah, that sounded good. The space excuse was a great way to let someone down without getting kicked in the nuts. “Sorry. Besides, you deserve a real relationship, not whatever this is.” Actually, I kind of thought she didn’t. She was kind of a whore, and she was pretty annoying, but I wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that. That wasn’t the kind of thing you told a softball player who had all of her bats in the house.

“But we could have a real relationship one day,” she insisted. “I’ll wait for you !”

I almost made a face at her, but luckily, I stopped myself. “I don’t think you want to wait that long. You’ll probably be old and wrinkly by then, and I wouldn’t want you, anyways.”

This was, apparently, one of those things you don’t say to a softball player. She scowled at me and jumped up, heading straight towards her closet. By the look on her face, I had a feeling she might have had a few bats stashed in there.

My eyes widened as I watched her, and I began to throw on my clothes as I talked. “Er, as fun as this little thing of ours has been, it’s over, and I’m leaving. Later. No, not later. Bye.”