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“I don’t need your sympathies,” I told her. “I left those demons in my past.” I shrugged. “Well, as much as I’ve been able to.” I leaned forward against the table. “I wasn’t pissed that Trisha ‘got’ pregnant, Lux. After all, she couldn’t have gotten pregnant without my help. I was pissed that it had all turned out to be a lie. I was pissed that it had all been a trap for action at my future. I was pissed that I had fallen for it, and that a baby that had never been plan didn’t exist.”
“Will there be anything else?”
We were so engrossed in our conversation that we hadn’t seen our waiter approach, a young kid that was close to going fangirl on me. You’d think that the citizens of this town would be used to seeing us since we lived here, but I guess not.
I looked over at Lux. “Do you want dessert?”
She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
I smiled over at him. “Just the check, please.”
“Of course.”
As soon as he stepped away, I went back to explaining my point of view. “When I found out that Trisha lied, it had broken my heart. Not because I loved her, not because she’d been special, not for any of those sentimental reasons. I’d been heartbroken because the chance to be a good father had been taken away from me. I’d been robbed of the chance to prove that I was better than my parents.”
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked, empathy shining in those green orbs of hers.
“To explain why I’m the way that I am,” I answered. “To make you understand why I set those rules for myself back then, and why I haven’t broken them for anyone. When I finally do break that major rule, it’ll be because I’ve found the one.” I leaned back in my seat. “The hell if I’m going to break it for some ball hopper.”
Lux had enough class to hold her tongue until the waiter dropped off the check, then left. “You know, calling those women ball hoppers is extremely insulting.”
“Why?” I challenged.
She scowled. “What do you mean, why?”
“That’s what they are,” I argued. “Is it offensive to call a prostitute a prostitute? Is it offensive to call a liar a liar? Those women make it their mission to fuck as many soccer players as they can, the main goal to get one of us to put a ring on their finger. Do you honestly think that the women that have chased me into hotel lobbies haven’t chased other soccer players?”
“It just sounds bad,” she muttered.
“That’s because their behavior isn’t exactly admirable,” I pointed out. “Now, don’t get me wrong; I’m the last one to judge. Considering that I benefitted from their determination, I’m the last one to judge them for how they get down. However, they are what they are, and I’m not going to sugarcoat it.”
“The rumors are that you adore women,” she huffed. “Calling them names doesn’t reflect that.”
“I’m not calling them names, Lux,” I argued. “I’m calling them what they are.”
“You’re playing semantics with me.”
I pulled out my wallet to pay the tab. “No, I’m not,” I replied. “It’s no different than using the word bitch.”
“Meaning?” she practically squawked.
Setting my credit card in the billfold, I slid it towards the edge of the table. “There’s a difference between telling a woman that she’sactinglike a bitch and that sheisa bitch.”
“Wh…what?” she sputtered.
I didn’t say anything as our waiter came and picked up the billfold. However, as soon as he was out of earshot again, I said, “They’re ball hoppers, Lux. They’re notactinglike them; theyarethem.”
“I’m so confused,” she muttered, shaking her head.
“As long as you finally believe me about my preferences in the bedroom, the rest doesn’t matter,” I said. “Rachel doesn’t matter.”
“Maybe she doesn’t,” Lux conceded. “But what she’s doing to you does.”
“If I asked you to marry me right now, what would you say?”
The waiter started choking on his own spit, choosing that moment to return my credit card and receipt. “Uhm…uh, thank you,” he stammered.
“You’re welcome,” I chuckled, Lux still staring at me like I was crazy, and maybe I was, because I could definitely see myself marrying the woman.
