Girl Next Door - The Complete Series (8 page)

I let my smart mouth get the better of me. “Who says I’m going out? As a matter of fact, we’re gonna stay in and do movie night.”

That changed Jack’s attitude immediately. First, he looked shocked, then, he looked pissed. So pissed that I took a step back before I could recognize that retreat would be bad.

“It’s only been three weeks and you’re already fucking somebody else?” He sounded incredulous. “Who the hell is he?”

Actually, it had been four weeks, but I wasn’t about to point that out. “No one you know. Now, you need to leave before I lose my temper and get my gun.”

Jack rolled his eyes as if he didn’t believe me. I took a deliberate step toward the stairs.

He sneered at me. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Natalie. Sooner or later, he’s gonna move on to greener pastures and you’ll come crawling back to me. You belong with me.”

Again, my inner smartass got the better of me. “I’d rather die old and dried up with a hundred cats than ever lay eyes on you again. I belong alone until death more than I belong with you.”

Jack stepped forward, his hands clenched into fists. Oh, crap, not good. Just when I thought things were going to get uglier, my cell phone rang. Jack’s head whipped around.

“Is that him?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Jack. I can’t see the phone. He’s probably calling to let me know he’s on his way with the pizza.” I noticed Jack’s aggressive posture and clenched fists. How could I have missed the batshit crazy vibes pouring off him before? Time for him to go. “You should leave now, Jack.”

I could tell he really wanted to ignore me, but he thought better of it. With a glare, he headed out the door.

“We’ll talk again, Nat. No matter what you think, this isn’t over.”

I’d heard that before, and, now, I was beginning to believe Jack wouldn’t stop bugging me until he said what he had to say, maybe even worse. I watched Jack walk out the door, and ran over to throw the deadbolt and the other lock. I put my back to the door and slid down to the floor. My heart was pounding and I felt as though my entire body was about to shake apart. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of one of the men who’d been in it. I was also beginning to wonder if I’d ever really known Jack at all, or if I had only seen what Jack wanted me to see. It seemed the laid back, fun guy was only skin deep and everything under that was beyond ugly.

By the time Aidan showed up with the pizza, I was back under control. The twenty minutes he’d planned had turned into almost forty-five because of quote-unquote, “fuckin’ traffic”.

Aidan’s eyes were intense on me as I dug into the pizza. “You okay, Nat?” he asked.

I grunted around a mouthful of pepperoni and mushroom. After I swallowed, I focused on my next slice, pulling it out of the box. My eyes were on the strings of melted cheese still clinging to my piece.

“Yeah. I’m just tired. I haven’t slept much the past couple of days…don’t know who could have contributed to that problem.” Aidan grinned. “Also, Jack’s been calling again today. So I’m peeved.”

I didn’t mention Jack’s earlier visit. Nor the ugliness that ensued. I omitted this for two very good reasons. One, Aidan was a friend-with-benefits, not my buddy or a boyfriend. He was something in between and, therefore, this was not his problem. His status in my life was short-term and, honestly, shallow. I didn’t want him involved in my problems because it would make it more difficult to cut ties later, and probably more painful. Two, a girl does not lay all her ex-boyfriend problems on a man she’s seeing, casual or otherwise. It’s one of the all-time top five rules of relationships. Right up there with telling a guy the real number of men you’ve slept with or how much he reminds you of your dad. Dropping ex problems on you new man is a guaranteed way to seeing his ass exit stage left pronto.

So, I kept my answer short and sweet. Aidan shrugged. Then, he shocked me.

“You want me to have words with your ex again?”

I choked on my pizza and had to take a huge slug of wine. That went against everything I had just run through in my head.

“What? Why?”

Aidan frowned at me. “Because the asshat is making a nuisance of himself. If he won’t listen to you when you tell him to fuck off, I’ll make sure he listens to me.”

I was speechless. I’d never had a fuck buddy before, but I was pretty sure the purpose of fuck buddies was sex without the drama. This situation with Jack was the definition of drama. Also, none of my boyfriends had ever offered to handle a bad situation of any sort.

“Um, thanks, Aidan, but I’ve got it under control.”

He nodded, and drank his beer. “Let me know if that changes. Understand?”

I nodded.

We chit chatted while we demolished the pizza, then Aidan suggested a bath. Most of the men I dated considered hot bubble baths a girlie thing. I said as much to Aidan. He gave me his sexy half-smile and said there was nothing girlie about sex in the bathtub, even with the bubbles.

After I took my bath with Aidan, I certainly had to agree. As a matter of fact, I didn’t think I’d be able to think about bubble baths without getting turned on,
ever again
.

A week went by after the night of the best bubble bath ever, and Aidan slept at my place every night. After the first night, I figured Aidan would light my fire, set me off, and then leave after a reasonable amount of time. I was very wrong. He did the first two things daily, but he never left before the alarm went off in the morning.

I wasn’t sure this was casual sex territory, but I enjoyed snuggling up to his warm, hard body, so I kept my mouth shut.

Also, Aidan would spend time just hanging out with me. For example, when he saw my DVD collection, he was surprised.

“Babe, you really like action movies don’t you?”

I glanced at him, one eye on my laptop screen. I was bidding on a pair of Brian Atwood platform pumps online and, if my bid won, I was going to get them for a fantastic price.

Distracted, I replied. “Yeah. I’m not a huge fan of chick flicks unless there’s a really hot guy running around shirtless for ninety percent of it. Otherwise, I like to see people kick ass and blow stuff up.”

Aidan chucked. “You may have to marry me. I think you’re one of the few women who’d rather see
The Expendables II
than
The Notebook
.”

My head snapped up. “There’s an Expendables II? When’s it coming out?”

He shook his head and chuckled, but he didn’t answer my question. I decided to Google it later.

It was after I asked my question that my brain processed the first part of Aidan’s statement. I gaped at him for a second, then focused on my shoes, not the m-word. I figured he was joking and decided not to read anything into it. Still, he ought to know better than to bring up the m-word with a woman he was sleeping with, casual or not. Women, even me, could and would start getting ideas about white picket fences and happily-ever-after. Aidan had made it pretty clear from the get-go that was not our future.

However, later that week, on Friday night, I promised Cat I was all hers. Between our work schedules and me hooking up with Aidan so often, I hadn’t had enough time with my bestie.

Cat, Michael, Amy, and I were meeting for sushi, then drinks at our favorite hole-in-the-wall pub. It was our usual version of Girls’ Night Out. We had a blast as we pigged out on sushi. Michael and Cat giggled as I gave them the highlights of the night Aidan and I went skinny dipping. Amy gaped at first, then grinned when I told her about my bet with Aidan, and how I’d lost.

After dinner, we moved to the pub. The conversation became more outrageous with each drink consumed. After vodka cranberry number four, I gave them the low down on the best bubble bath ever. I ordered another vodka cranberry after I finished my story. I needed to cool down.

Michael spoke first. “Girlie, I think you should keep that one on the hook.”

“I second that,” Cat chimed in.

I rolled my eyes. “Did you both forget that Aidan is a friend with benefits? This ‘relationship’,” I made quote marks in the air as I spoke, “has an expiration date and very little emotional attachment.”

Amy, who had been listening intently to my story and this exchange, piped up. “Did you, or did you not, say that he has spent every night with you since Monday?”

I nodded.

She continued, “And, haven’t you been spending time together doing stuff besides having sex?”

Again, I nodded. “But,” I said, “he is a
friend
with benefits. The definition of friend is someone you like and hang out with.”

Amy laughed. “Whatever. I think you’re in denial.”

“Me, too,” piped in Michael.

Cat just smirked and I knew she was thinking the same thing.

Again, I rolled my eyes, then focused a glare on Amy. It was time to change the subject.

“Forget about me. I wanna hear about the new flavor-of-the-month.”

Amy regaled us with stories of her latest conquest. Cat explained how her new “manfriend” turned out to be a dud, and Michael and I laughed at their outlandish stories. Through our crazy conversation, we each had a round of shots, then another. By eleven o’clock, we were all giggling like a bunch of preteen girls and none of us were capable of driving home. This was nothing new, so we all decided to call cabs. I was pulling out my phone when Michael looked over my shoulder to the entrance of the pub.

“Oh, my,” he breathed. “Hottie on your six, Nat.”

I glanced over my shoulder and froze. What the hell was Aidan doing here?

“I texted him from your phone, Nat,” Cat stated.

Damn, I must have asked that question out loud.

“Why in the hell did you text him?”

Cat laughed, and it was pure evil. Oh, man, she was fucking with me. I narrowed my eyes at her. I was
so
gonna get even.

I was distracted from my machinations by a hot, callused hand sliding under my hair to cup my neck. Aidan had been touching me so much this week that he had me conditioned to get turned on as soon as he laid a finger on me. My thighs clenched and my nipples got hard. This was not good. Aidan was well on his way to ruining me for other men.

I tilted my head back and smiled at Aidan. “Sorry Cat bothered you.”

Aidan raised his eyebrows and looked surprised. “You texted me, Nat.”

“No, actually, Cat did. She used my phone. I’m sorry you got dragged out here. We were about to call cabs.”

I glared at Cat. Then, I rolled my head back and looked up at Aidan. I was definitely feeling no pain, so he was a little fuzzy.

Aidan grinned at me. “No problem. I can take you home.”

“Ok,” I said. No use arguing, I wanted to go home with him anyway.

I said good-bye to my girls and best guy, gave hugs and kisses, paid my tab, and tottered out the door, holding onto Aidan’s arm.

Aidan was grinning by the time he helped me into the truck.

“How much did you drink, Natalie?

I was struggling with my seatbelt and missed his grin widening when I replied, “Five vodka cranberries and two shooters called something nipples, or screaming orgasms. I can’t remember the name, I just remember it had something to do with sex, or boobs, or something.”

I finally got my belt buckled as Aidan opened the driver side door to his Dodge pickup. He was chuckling and still wearing a shit-eating grin. I looked around and suddenly noticed how cluttered the cab was. Fast food wrappers, empty soda bottles, papers, pens, and assorted odds and ends were
everywhere
.

“When’s the last time you cleaned out your truck, 1999 or something?” I shoved a pile of trash under my seat with my feet. “I hope you didn’t pick up girls in this thing. I may find one of them lost in the garbage piles behind the seat.”

What can I say, alcohol encourages freedom of speech. Thankfully, Aidan found inebriated bluntness amusing rather than rude.

He chuckled and answered, “This is my company truck. I take it to work sites and the office. My brother, Patrick, also drives it a lot. Unfortunately, he’s a slob.”

I looked around me again. “No kidding,” I said.

I was pretty quiet the rest of the way home, enjoying my buzz and the company. Aidan pulled into his garage and shut off the truck.

The seatbelt was a lot less hassle going off than when I put it on. Aidan helped me out of the truck. I noticed a gorgeous deep blue Chevy Malibu. I loved American muscle, but I wasn’t so obsessed that I could tell the exact year model, but I was pretty sure it was late 1960’s.

“Nice wheels,” I said.

Aidan, again, looked surprised. “You know cars?”

I lifted my hand and waggled it back and forth in a so-so motion.

“I can tell make and model and general year range, but I wouldn’t trust me under the hood.” I swayed and ran the tips of my fingers across the front fender.

“This Malibu is sweet. It’s a late 1960’s model, right?” I asked.

Aidan was watching me intently, his eyes melting from hazel to gold. Oh, man, he was hot, and he was getting even hotter. Apparently, he liked that I was interested in cars,
a lot
.

Suddenly, he was in my space, gripping my hips and backing me toward the car.