Fire on Fire

12. No cookie for the rookie

"First of all, Millie is a horrible name," Alexander chuckled, once again dodging a light punch from his sister. "Second, how's a slumber party intimate? You're literally surrounded by people you don't know."

Delilah rolled her eyes. "Um ... hello? Grown women doing a slumber party? It's basically a group of sexually frustrated women wearing lingerie and getting wasted."

Her brother laughed, nodding. "Oh, I see ... blue balls situation for my little sis, huh? Or should I say ... blue boobs? Sorry, I'm not familiar with the lingo."

She slapped his arm, scowling. "Would you please stop being such a jerk? I need your help."

"What for? You didn't go to the slumber party. In my book, that's drawing a line."

"Drawling a line?" She asked quizzically.

"Like ... let's not get ahead of ourselves. Tell me, was it her party or a friend's?"

"Uh ... hers, I think. Why?"

He clapped his hands one time. "That's it. She'd basically told you she'd bang you tonight, and you ditched, so ... no cookie for the rookie." Alexander laughed, pinching her cheek.

Delilah scoffed, slapping his hand away. "You don't know that. It's ... it works differently for us."

"Oh, please," he scoffed back, "we fish in the same tank, remember? I probably know women better than you do."

His sister rolled her eyes. "If that's so, then how come you're so blind about Emma?"

Alexander froze at the sole mention of her name, his heart beating faster. "What's Emma got to do with any of this?"

"She's more way more than just a pretty face ..." Delilah mocked, air-quoting him. "Nana told me about your lovesick moment."

"It wasn't a lovesick moment ... I was just helping a friend." He argued weakly.

"In my limited experience as a straight woman before seeing light, I can assure you ... every woman in the world knows, if he goes out of his way to help you, take care of you, he's no friend. He's definitely trying to bone you." She scoffed. "You taught me that, big brother." Delilah taunted. "Anything a guy does for a girl, it's always, always aimed to second purposes. Isn't that your ... hit jackpot theory?"

Alexander rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter after he'd placed on his shoulder the cloth he'd used to dry the dishes. "I didn't help Emma because I wanted to sleep with her."

"Because you already do, don't you?" Delilah smirked smugly. "Come on, it's pretty clear."

He pursed his lips, guilty. "Okay, maybe I have ... a few times. But it's over now, it was just ... it's done."

"Oh, my God!" His sister exclaimed. "That's why you've been in a mood! She dumped you!"

Alexander grimaced. "She didn't dump me, she ... just chose to end our peculiar-uh ... arrangement."

"Yeah, that's the very definition of dumping, Xander."

"I hate that nickname." He grumbled.

"Oh, come on, you hate every nickname I give you!" She whined, pouting. "Alexander's too long for a name."

"Well, it's my name, just use it."

Delilah eyed him. "I still don't understand why can't I just call you Alex. It's the most obvious abbreviation for-"

"Just don't." He snapped.

"But why-"

"Don't. Period." Alexander growled, slamming the cloth onto the counter, only to then storm off. Delilah remained there, flabbergasted. What was so wrong about a nickname?