“Christopher,” she snaps. “I’m reading. If you are not going to sleep, go back to your own bed.”
“A lot of women would die to have me in their bed, you know?” I huff.
“Why don’t you go and see where they are, then?” she mutters as she turns the page.
“I’m going out,” I warn.
“Okay.”
Fucking woman has me bent over a barrel, and she knows it.
“I’m going out to meet women,” I warn again.
“Okay.” She kisses my arm. “Have fun.”
Screw this . . . I am going out to meet women, and I am having sex tonight.
No more Hayden Whitmore puppy patrol.
I sit up.
“If you are going to the locker, can you get my white dress out?” she says.
I narrow my eyes. I know that white dress . . . the one that makes me hard as a rock on sight.
“No, you’re not wearing that out without me.”
“Why not?”
“Because we don’t know those fuckers?”
“What fuckers?”
“The ones from Holland,” I snap. “Who knows what kind of perverts they might be.”
“Oh . . .” She keeps reading.
I climb out of bed. “Is Bernadette or Kimberly going with you?”
“I haven’t asked them.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t need a bodyguard, Christopher.”
“In that dress, I disagree.”
She turns her head. “Are you going to cuddle my back and go to sleep or keep mouthing off?”
“I’ll give you mouthing off.” I pull her into my arms aggressively from behind. “Why don’t we fuck?” I suggest.
“Be still, my heart,” she whispers as she reads. “If you’re horny, just go and find a girl to play with. You’re getting annoying.”
“You would rather read a book than . . .” I press my lips together because words fail me right now.
“Yes,” she snaps. “I would, actually.”
“I have needs, Grumps.”
“Then go and meet them. We are not fucking, Christopher. Not now, not ever. Stop suggesting it. You’re beginning to piss me off.”
Right. That’s it. I don’t need to stay here and cop this abuse. I get out of bed in a huff. “I am going out.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t come looking for me.”
“I won’t.”
I stare at her as I begin to fume.
She really doesn’t want me.
How?
I march outside and go to my locker in a huff. I get my things out to wear tonight.
Screw this.
I’m not coming on to her again . . . ever again!
I’m done being her puppy.
I go through her bag and retrieve her white dress, and I stuff it into the bottom of my bag. She’ll never find it here. This dress is for my eyes only.
I’m done with Hayden Whitmore.