Mismatched Compatibility (A and D Spin-Off)

Mismatched Compatibility (14)

SATURDAY

Ethan:

Sex.

Why did I like it so much?

I stared up at my ceiling, still on my bed and not in the mood to get up yet even though the morning sun was peeking through my windows. Pervert.

I barely had any sleep last night. I got too many shit in my head to drift my mind off to sleep. Seriously, I shouldn't even be bothered by what Daniella and I had talked about last night. It wasn't anything deep or in any way that involved me, and I shouldn't let it lose me some sleep. But it had.

Since her puny ex-boyfriend that I met the other day was such ladies man that he had to break up with her for fear of hurting her in the future because he might cheat on her (which I thought was utter bullshit), it really got me thinking about a lot of things. Mainly, my chosen life-style and my views about commitment – and if there would come a point in my life when I'd be thinking like her retarded ex.

I'd be lying if I said that me screwing around wasn't because of the pleasure. Hell, it was all about the pleasure. I've gotten pretty damn good at it that them ladies were falling in line to have me for the night. It was because of my skills that I got what I wanted from them – anything I wanted.

So why didn't I want to commit?

Don't get me wrong, I once had a commitment. That one and only time had been with Annabelle in freshmen year of high school. She was my first (if you know what I mean). Actually, we were each other's first. But then, she got clingy and needy. I began to realize that time that I hated clingy and needy. I loved her, but it wasn't enough to make me look past it. So I broke it off with her. It almost destroyed our friendship, too.

Sure, we had some sort of friends-with-benefits going on during our senior year after her split with Aaron. But that was it. She and I both knew we had too much history to let one stupid relationship ruin everything. We could only ever be the best of friends that we were. It wasn't that big a deal.

After my first try at the girlfriend thing, the girls got old. I get tired of them too easily. Those that stay longer that twenty-four hours think that have some sort of claim over me. They have this twisted scenarios in their heads that they can change me from my ways. I get what they're trying to do. It was pretty obvious.

Everyone wanted to f*cking tame the bad boy.

The thing was, I didn't want to be tamed. At least, not now. I was enjoying what I was known to do too much to even think of keeping my dick for the same girl full-time.

Yeah, I was a man-whore. It was the truth. No need for me to deny it.

Besides, why would I wanna be a one-woman-man when I haven't even met the girl who I'd be willing to do that for? The kind of girl who I wouldn't get tired of looking at, of touching, of smelling – someone who kept me wanting more.

I don't think I've met her yet, though.

Daniella's face popped in my head.

My brows instantly frowned and I bolted up. Shaking my head, I tried to figure out why the hell she popped in my mind just when I was thinking of a girl who made me want more. And then, I remembered our hot make-out session at the Airport.

I felt my morning hard-on just got harder.

F*ck.

I needed a cold shower, I grumbled as I hurried to the bathroom.

An ice cold shower.

Taking that shower hadn't helped much. I just kept thinking more and more instances when I wanted to feel Daniella against me.