A/N: This used to be chapter four. Rearranging made it chapter two. If you're a new reader disregard this message! Just letting people who've already read the first draft know.
Kidnap My Heart
Chapter 2: Will
“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?
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.
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.
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Kidnap My HeartHumor
Emma van der Bilt is clever, snarky, and spoiled rotten. William Knight is cocky, impatient, and slightly dimwitted. So how exactly did Will manage to kidnap Emma and her best friend twice and live to talk about it? *** "What the hell-" I screeched...