"Ha! Kitten has jokes. Well, it hurts enough to match it. My whole body feels like I've been run over by a Mack truck."
"You ever wonder how that saying got started? Like, did someone actually get run over by a truck and knew it was the most painful? Did they do a study of different brands to determine the rating?"
Surly barked a laugh, followed by a grimace, grabbing his ribs. "Ow, kitten. Don't make me laugh."
"Sorry. Not my intention. I'm not usually funny."
When it became quiet again, my societal niceties flared up and I asked another question. "Why do you call me that? Kitten, I mean. I do have a name." Despite hearing last night, something in me wanted him to say it out loud, to admit it to my face.
"Ah, yes, Loren, right?"
I nodded, even if it was rhetorical. Being out of Windy City was throwing me off our usual banter.
"Kitten fits you." He shrugged with one arm, his one eye intense on me.
"I disagree," I scoffed, feeling offended. I protectively crossed my arms and rolled my eyes at him. "I'm not a baby cat."
"No, that you are not," he purred, causing a blush to rise to my cheeks. He kept staring at me, offering no other explanation.
"Fine, if you're going to call me that, you will stay as Surly," I huffed, annoyed at myself for feeling flustered and a little turned on. Why did I always end up acting like a petulant child around him? His responding smile did not help the situation between my legs, my whole need to be obstinate with him in the first place.
"Surly, huh?"
"Not like you ever introduced yourself properly," I defended, not liking that he was getting enjoyment out of this. "But yeah, between all the brooding commands you give me, I felt it fit."
He watched me closely, taking me in. I felt very uncomfortable with his inspection, almost as if he saw me for the first time. The real me.
"Your turn to tell me why you really call me kitten?"
"What's the fun in that, kitten?" he teased, a panty-dropping look coming over him even with one eye swollen shut. "It's a lot more fun to tease."
"Well, you can keep your teasing remarks to yourself. I need to go. I have things to do that don't revolve around bandaging up arrogant men."
Standing, I stalked off toward the doorway feeling bad I wasn't telling Monroe bye but figured I could just text him. As I reached the door, Surly called out one more time, apparently needing to have the last word.
"It's Wells, by the way. In case you need to know what name to moan out when you think of me. Though, I quite like how Surly sounds coming from your mouth."
"Ugh!" I screamed, quickly exiting. Every time I started to like him, he opened his damn mouth and reminded me why he was such an asshole in the first place.
Unlocking my door, I stalked into my kitchen, needing my coffee. The timer had already gone off, meaning I didn't even have to wait for it to drip down into the carafe for once. Pouring some into my mug, I sat on the barstool with my phone to text Monroe before I forgot.
When my phone lit up, I saw I had a couple of messages too. Quickly, I sent one to Monroe.
ME:Hey, sorry. I had to leave. I'm still looking forward to dinner tomorrow.
Hitting send, I felt weird with my message. There was so much unsaid dialogue in texting. It might be convenient, but the subtext was filled with minefields that were difficult to navigate. Add in emojis, and I was lost. What did they all mean anyway? How did a peach refer to something sexual? I was utterly clueless about it all. Another disadvantage of not dating in your twenties, I suppose. Looking over the other messages, I smiled as I read them.
StudMuffin:I've decided I'm going to be your tour guide.
ME:Tour guide? Are we going on a trip?
I was surprised when he responded immediately. Direct Nicco I could deal with. There weren't any minefields that way. Part of me was feeling guilty for my upcoming dinner date with Monroe. But neither man had said anything about exclusivity, and wasn't this part of dating? Dating more than one person at a time?
Monroe and I were friends, but it felt like more was there. I could do this, I decided. I could. Well, I at least wanted to try since I found myself liking them both.
StudMuffin: Good morning, beautiful. And yes, we are going on a trip to debauchery land.
ME: Oh, this sounds serious. Debauchery, huh?