The Billionaire Bull: A Billionaire and Virgin Romance

by Romi Hart

  “It’s okay…”

  “Do I have to beg? Just have a drink with me, player.”

  Stephen sighs. “Fine. Just a beer.”

  “What kind?”

  “Surprise me.”

  I tip the waitress and then stare down Stephen, who I can tell, still doesn’t trust me.

  “Look dude. I know you don’t like me. I know it.”

  “I think you’re great,” Stephen says, matter of factly. Best quarterback I’ve seen play the game. But like I said, I don’t think you’re a good match for Amanda. And if she asks me I’ll tell her the same thing. And if you invite me to see a bunch of naked girls…I’ll tell you the same thing.”

  “But you enjoy the show, right?” I say with a grin.

  “Sure. Hell, if you’re paying,” Stephen laughs.

  "Well, I don't mean to be a dog and give out details. That's not what a man does. I do consider myself honorable."

  Stephen folds his arms, still listening.

  “But what I WILL say, Stephen, is that I wouldn’t be harassing you or your family so bad if not for two things. One, that Amanda is not just some girl I’m crushing on like some Michael Myers shit. She and I were together. Do you feel me?”

  "Yeah, I figured..." Stephen says, still about as comfortable as a priest in a whorehouse.

  “So you got to understand, I am genuinely confused. Does she always do this? Or is this a game she expects me to figure out and then win? Come on. You have to understand where I’m coming from.”

  The waitress brings back Stephen’s drink and he takes a sip. And catches a glimpse of the big ass Latina girl dancing on stage. Good, at least I know he’s still human and in good health.

  “I get where you’re coming from. All I can really tell you is that Amanda is not available. Emotionally. You get what I’m saying?”

  “Yeah but that’s what they all say…”

  "No, that's not true," Stephen says forcefully. "You think Amanda is cold-hearted? I'm not going to argue you. She's been hurt before, Nate."

  The thought hits me like a shoulder crunch. My whole body shakes internally. The very thought seems to wake me up. There’s nothing I can even say to that.

  “That’s what being hurt does to people, you know? It makes them cold. It makes them unwilling to trust. God knows why she decided to sleep with you, but it’s done. It’s over. The reason she’s not playing games with you is because she is unavailable. And you need to understand that.”

  I finally muster up the courage to say something…anything rather than looking like a fool. “Well yeah I guess but don’t we all have some demons in our past?”

  “It’s not just him, it’s also YOU,” Stephen says. “My guess is that you remind her of her last boyfriend.”

  “Say what?” I laugh at the very thought. “How’s that even possible? I mean who did she date before…”

  "I dunno. A Rich football player for one."

  “No way!”

  “Yeah. Amanda’s a smart, brilliant woman. She’s no groupie girl. You might even say great and famous people seem to chase after her.”

  “Who was it? Wait…no, don’t tell me. I’d hate to beat his ass if by some chance he’s still playing.”

  “Nah, he’s retired.” Played for the Dolphins a few years back. But he was very much in love with Amanda years ago. And she was in love with him.”

  “Really?” I look down and shrug at the idea. The idea that Amanda gave another football player a chance—but not me! “Hard to imagine Amanda loving anybody, at least from the woman I met.”

  “Well, she’s changed, man. And hey?” Stephen stares me down. You want to know what Amanda learned from all her years of heartbreak? Don’t date players.”

  I crack up. “What, you mean from the NFL or the college ranks too?”

  “I don’t mean players, like football players. I mean men who are players.”

  “Ohhhh I see. You think I’m a player. She thinks I’m a player?”

  Stephen rolls his head, like he thinks I’m full of shit. “Come on, Nate. Be real for a second. Do you REALLY believe that the character you play on TV and the real you are that far apart? How many women do you fuck in a month? Where are we right now? A strip club? You think Amanda, you think MY FAMILY, goes for this kind of stuff?”

  "What…so you eat graham crackers all day? Go to the church choir and shit?"

  Stephen sighs figuring it’s all pointless…and maybe it is. “I’m not judging you, man. I guess if I had your life, you know…whatever. But you’re not who Amanda wants or needs. She needs someone who’s going to fall in love with HER. Not be in love with himself. And I think she’s made that clear by now. Don’t you?”

  I think of ten different things to say, but this time, I feel like it’s just sour grapes. Just a sore loser. Like Stephen said, it’s what the woman chooses. And I have to accept that, even if it stings.

  “Okay,” I say reluctantly. But…What if…Still…

  NO. I have to let it go. I have to let HER go.

  "Hey though," Stephen says, patting me on the shoulder, just like I might do to a teammate who I know is going to get cut next week. "You are a great football player. You got a great life, right?"

  “Yeah…right.”

  Accepting Amanda's rejection may well be a first for me. I guess I've never actually had a woman tell me no before…or at least, say no and then mean it. I always figure it's just a girl playing games. Setting me up so she can smack me down and into bed. But with Amanda, I feel as if I've hit too close. Too close to the heart center…not just for me but for her.

  She knows what I am, or at least, what she thinks I am. She thinks I’m a monster. A player. An egotistical rat bastard. And she fucked me to get rid of me.

  God…am I really that repulsive? A fuck-deterrent? Fuck this Godzilla lover so he’ll leave the little village of people alone? Why do I feel like shit now?

  I never really thought of sleeping with all those different girls as anything wrong. They offered themselves to me. They were like fans, like friends…they wanted me! They only asked for one thing and I gave them what they wanted.

  I’ve never had to beg for anything. I’ve never had to intimidate, coerce or bully any woman ever! That’s not who I am. And damn the papers and press if that’s who they’re trying to make me out to be.

  But…as I look at myself in the mirror, muscles ripped, chiseled physique, my chest rising and falling…I start to smile. I like myself. I admire what I am, what I’ve pushed myself to become. From some scrawny dreaming kid to a full physical reality. I defied the odds and I made something of myself, dammit, when everyone else just wanted to wait and see what happened. I wanted to be BIG. I wanted to be famous.

  So why does Amanda’s criticism of me hurt so bad? Maybe because she sees through me. She knows that nothing’s under here. Nothing’s under this body…but just a fool. A fool who doesn’t know the first thing about how to keep a woman after they fuck and run.

  Maybe that’s my tough lesson to learn in life, maybe like mom always told me, we all have a lesson to learn. And mine is simple.

  A woman just leaves. She gets what she wants out of you and then she leaves.

  It never bothered me before today.

  I can’t seem to get her out of my mind…and I have to wonder is it just because she’s saying no to me? Am I really that shallow? Or is this whole relationship something deeper than either of us want to admit?

  Sometimes I check the Craigslist ads…just to see if anyone in town might be looking for a certain somebody. Just to check if maybe she’s thinking about me and is sending me secret messages. But as I scroll down and see nothing but other people’s love, I’m reminded of what’s real and what’s dreaming.

  “Alan, I'm not sure why you were sitting in the parking lot for at the time I left for work. But I've done nothing but wonder why? I hadn't seen you since you drove by ribbing your motor up as you passed me, several months ago and within minutes of me tex
ting you. Now, my question is if you're not going to step up, ever, then stop it. You know I truly love you and have changed a hella lot and would do anything for you in and have. My heart is yours to love, not to toy with.”

  This ad is definitely not for me. But maybe all women speak the same language to men, at least on a subconscious level. Maybe we play around too much. We lose trust. Maybe our “alpha instincts” are to blame. Maybe it’s all our own damn fault. We don’t know what we want. We want women but we’re too afraid to commit and create the family that our instincts are pushing us towards.

  Maybe the reason I'm so obsessed with Amanda isn't because she told me no…maybe it's because I just want to settle down. Maybe the most shocking truth is that I'm tired of having sex with sluts in locker rooms and in hotels. With her, maybe I had a glimpse of a life, a new life that could be mine.

  I snap a selfie of myself—buff, proud but with a frown. I put my phone away and crash on the bed. Maybe it’s time I grow up. Maybe Old Nate really needs to die, to go away and let New Nate live for once. And I know exactly what Old Nate would do if a woman told him to get lost. That old rascal would chase her, and charm her, and pick on her until she laughs…and then changes her mind. Because sex with someone who doesn’t like you is explosive, for sure…

  But that’s the old me. I promised Amanda I wouldn’t chase her if that’s what she really wanted. And who knows, maybe I like her that much. That much that her happiness is more important than my raging ego. So long, baby. I hope you never date a player again, if we’ve done that much harm to your soul.

  Jesus Christ…I fell asleep in my own filth. How long have I been out? I must have fallen asleep after my fifth…or tenth…beer. What time is it? Shit, is it Tuesday or Wednesday? I wonder if…

  Ah, no wonder I woke up…the phone is ringing incessantly. Must have been dialing for a while to actually wake me up from a hangover. This better be good. And it better not be my coach again. I already told that fool about next weekend…

  “Yeah what?”

  “Nate? Is this Nate Jiggur?”

  “That’s what they call me. In the field and in the bedroom, baby.”

  “What?” the voice sounds horrified.

  “Donnie is that you?” I say with a grin. “Stop clowning. What’s up?”

  “NO, this is not Donnie. This is Blake, Amanda’s father?”

  “Jesus…” I mutter to myself. Why in the world is Amanda’s dad calling me this early…I mean…this late in the afternoon. Three PM? Damn, I really was out wasn’t I?

  “You remember me, don’t you, son?”

  “Yeah. Mister Shannon. Blake. Of course. Umm…I’m sorry, I seem to forget why you’re calling me. Kind of just waking up.”

  “Waking up now? In the afternoon?”

  “Yeah…I’m kind of a late sleeper. Why, is something wrong?”

  “Yeah…you might say that. Look uh…can we meet somewhere, Nate? We REALLY need to talk.”

  Oh fuck, that doesn’t sound good! That doesn’t sound good at all. What did I do last night anyway? Did I drink and dial? Did I make a fool of myself? I said I’d leave Amanda alone and I meant it. So what the hell is going on?

  “Ummm…okay. Can I ask what this is about, Mister Shannon?”

  "Oh, I think you know what it's about."

  Shit, that sounds even worse! What could have happened? Oh God, what if Amanda’s preggers? Oh my God! Talk about instant commitment. Am I ready for that? Or does she even want me? Child support and alimony payments? Mother fuuuuu…

  “Ummm…I don’t, really.”

  “Let’s just meet, okay? I don’t want to meet at the store, however. How about we meet in my neck of the woods? At the Lutheran Church on Alsbury Road, it’s just two blocks away from my store. You can Google Maps the place.”

  “You want me to meet you in church?” I ask in disbelief.

  “No, not inside. There’s a park right next to it, managed by the church. But I know the minister who owns it. Come meet me in about an hour, I’ll be by the benches waiting.”

  “Is it…uh…good news or bad news?” I ask sheepishly, expecting the worse. I really don’t know if this is good news or a country ass whooping.

  “Well…” Blake says with enthusiasm. “I guess that depends on YOU.”

  I walk around the small forest next to the church in caution—like I'm talking to an FBI informant! For some reason, it seems strange that I'm here…talking to Blake of all people. I wait patiently on the bench, looking around the small park and to the right and left, halfway wondering if this is a setup. I'm dressed in extra dark garb—long slacks and a long coat ideal for the cool autumn weather.

  I think it’s a bit suspicious Blake isn’t here yet. I figured he of all people would be punctual. And I made sure to get here at exactly one hour from when he called—four PM!

  Maybe it’s Amanda messing with me. Or maybe it’s something to do with…

  I suddenly feel a grab on my shoulder! I toss my head back and fall into a defensive position. But my footing is off and I stumble backward, nervously looking on at whoever caught me by surprise.

  Blake stands before me, smiling ear to ear and nodding.

  “Mister Nate, how are you? A little jumpy.”

  “Just a little,” I say in confusion, having no damned idea how Blake just snuck up on me like a superhero. For an older man, he sure sneaks up like no one’s business!

  “Sorry if I startled you.”

  "Yeah…are you a part-time PI or something?"

  “No,” he laughs quietly. “Just a father. You always have to think one step ahead of the boys chasing after your girl, I think you know what I mean.”

  I look into Blake’s eyes and sense a friendly note, unusual for him. His graying features and strong jawline are so much more inviting when he’s smiling that’s for sure.

  “Yeah sure. Is this about Amanda?”

  “No,” he says hesitantly. “I’m here because I respect Amanda’s wishes to have nothing to do with you.” He loses his smile and makes sure I get the point.

  “Oh. I see…”

  “Nate,” he says before a long pause. “I wonder how serious were you when you offered to buy my store a while back. I know you said in front of Amanda. Maybe you were trying to show off a little bit.”

  He waits for an answer. I shrug it off. “Hey man…maybe I was trying to act like big daddy Santa Claus or something…”

  He nods and looks down.

  “But I’m a man of my word. I don’t ever promise things I don’t mean.”

  “So…you are interested in buying it?”

  “Talk to me, Blake. What’s going on?”

  He looks nostalgic and keeps his head low. It's a struggle to admit what he's really thinking, but he pushes the words out of his mouth. "Look Nate…I'm here because I need a miracle. You were the only person to ever make a real offer, at least, I hope it's real. For the last three years, I've been privately looking for an investor to uh…you know, buy the business. Take it off my hands."

  “Why?”

  “I’m not doing that well. The last three or four years I’ve just lost everything. Not speaking of just money, but the time…my memory…everything. I’m not the man I was twenty years ago. The business is operating at a loss.”

  Blake looks down again, this time in shame, he even has trouble looking me in the eyes. “I’m thousands of dollars in debt. I’m too old to get an investor. I just need to sell the store and have someone take it off my hands. I need to buy a few years of retirement, that’s what it comes down to.”

  I nod…a little perplexed at the situation. The very idea of buying the store sends a chill down my spine. Not just because I love guitars but also because I know for a fact it would be helping Amanda. Helping her family. Wouldn’t that prove to her that…

  “You sounded like you were serious. But…I don’t know, Nate,” Blake says, eying me with a surly expression. “Was it all just talk?”

  Buy the s
tore. Save the family business. Win over Amanda’s father, maybe even Stephen’s approval. Amanda would feel guilted to sleep with me again. To be with me permanently. I could buy my way into her heart, into her life. I would win everything.

  And that’s why I realize…that I can’t possibly do something like this. I have to say no. But how to break it to Nigel who looks like a damn orphan on Christmas Eve.

  “Can I ask you something, Mister Shannon?” I say with hesitance.

  “Yes...”

  “Does your family know about your financial situation?”

  “Of course not. I don’t want to worry them with such…stressful details. A man always protects his family.”

  I nod slowly.

  “But it’s about to hit the fan, son,” he says in disgrace. “I’m one step away from bankruptcy. If you don’t buy the store, I’m screwed. I’m going to have to break the news to the girls. I’m going to lose everything.”

  “There’s just one problem, sir. I promised Amanda something…that I wouldn’t get involved in her life anymore. That’s what she made me promise. And I am a man of my word. I promised her too.”

  “Ah, I see,” Blake says with a heavy heart. “I suppose you think, or she thinks, that such a business transaction would demand favors.”

  “What I know is Amanda would never forgive me if he “bought and owned” her passion in life. You know the family business means everything to her.”

  “No, no,” Blake says firmly. “After this, it would be gone. Amanda would find another job. I would retire…the family would move on, we would-”

  “Mister Shannon,” I interrupt with a reluctant smile. “I made a promise to her.”

  He stops talking and stares at me, before slowly nodding off. “I understand. I suppose it was wishful thinking. A man has to provide for his family, doesn’t he? I suppose trying to cash my way out of my responsibility is not honorable.”

  “Look if I could help I would…”

  He nods and waves away my good intentions. Poor man…nothing will help him right now but an escape plan. He’s tired. Hurting from a lifetime of underappreciated work. He wants to rest. But maybe it’s not his time yet. Maybe…the old man still has some work to do.