And Then You Dance

by Heather A Buchman

  He held Willow closer, and she opened her mouth on his cheek. A Willow kiss. He loved them.

  — • —

  It had been a roll of the dice. Billy was pretty sure he’d kissed Renie, but not one hundred percent. It did explain her behavior, which is why he’d decided he hadn’t dreamt it.

  He hadn’t ever visited her at school, but Fort Collins was close to Greeley and he’d competed there enough to know about where he had to get off the highway.

  He called Sookie from the road and told him his parents had a house key for him to use until Billy had time to get one made for him.

  “You can stay up at the house tonight if you want to. There’s a guest room on the main floor, to the left of the kitchen. That’ll be yours, and you can stay there as much or as little as you want to.”

  “Can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” Sookie said, and then told him how grateful he was to get out of the bunkhouse. “Whatever you need help with, I’m happy to do it.”

  As long as Sookie stayed away from Renie, he didn’t care what the man did. There was a bigger bedroom downstairs, but it was next to the one she stayed in. Billy didn’t want him down there.

  ***

  Billy would be there in about an hour and a half if he left when she thought he did. She looked around her one bedroom apartment, trying to decide if she should try to tidy up, or text him and suggest they meet somewhere.

  It would be better to meet somewhere. She wasn’t ready to have Billy here, in her space.

  Meet me at the hideout, she texted.

  No, he answered.

  You aren’t supposed to be texting and driving.

  Not.

  How was that even possible?

  For a smart girl, you don’t know much about technology, do ya?

  Meet me at the hideout, she texted again.

  No, he answered. Again.

  Shit. She really didn’t want him here.

  An hour later she heard a knock at the door. How had he gotten here so fast?

  “Hi,” Renie answered. Damn, he looked good. He hadn’t shaved all day, so the dark stubble was even longer. She wanted to reach out and run her hand over it. He wore his dark blue, plaid True Grit shirt. His Cinch jeans were just the right amount of tight.

  “You gonna invite me in to do that or are you gonna feast me with your eyes out here in the hallway?”

  She smiled, stepped back, and waved him in.

  Her place was small, but it looked like her. The dining room table was stacked high with books and papers, but the kitchen was spotless. The living room, which the dining room infringed on, looked less lived in.

  He longed to go and explore the rest of it, see her bedroom. He would’ve done whatever he wanted to a couple days ago, but now things were different between them.

  He looked at her. She studied him, a little smirk on her face, as if she dared him to do it.

  “Ah hell,” he said and stalked down the hall, opening the first door he came to. Bathroom. He closed the door. There was one other door; it had to be her bedroom. It was, and it wasn’t at all what he expected.

  It was the only room that looked as though she decorated it in a purposeful way. The rest of her apartment looked like a typical twenty-something’s place, a mishmash of randomly- gathered furniture. This was a different story. It looked as though it belonged in Greece. Everything in the room was white, except the bright turquoise and red pillows scattered here and there. The mattress sat on a white platform with a molded headboard that looked as though it was made of clay or stone. On the ledge it formed naturally, was a single vase with three fresh roses, and one picture frame. He walked over and picked up a photo of her and Pooh; she had to have been about eleven or twelve. The man standing next to them, holding the horse’s reins, was none other than yours truly.

  Renie stood in the doorway, watching him. He set the photo back down and looked around.

  “Where do you keep your clothes?”

  “In the closet.”

  Still with the smirk, he wanted to wipe it off her face, but the way he wanted to do it…it might be too soon for him to think about that.

  He walked back to her. She didn’t move, so he got as close to her as he could, without touching her. He stood in front of her and looked, up and down, the way she had done to him when he got there.

  She had on jeans, the same 501s she always wore, and a pink, striped, button-down shirt, with enough buttons undone that from where he stood, he could see the lace on her white bra, and the swell of her breasts. One hand was on her hip; the other hung at her side. Her feet were bare, and her toenails were the lightest shade of pink. Her long blond hair was up off her neck, he preferred it down. Tiny pearl earrings adorned her ears, and her blue eyes didn’t blink.

  He reached up and took the clip out of her hair, and dropped it on the floor. She started to reach down to pick it up, and he grabbed her arm, stopping her.

  He brushed his lips across her cheek, to her ear. “Either let me out of your bedroom Renie, or be prepared to stay in here the rest of the night. With me.”

  She didn’t move, so he took her hand, to pull her into the room with him. She let go, turned, and walked back down the hallway to her living room.

  Billy walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. As though he owned the place.

  “Whatcha’ lookin’ for?” she asked.

  “Somethin’ to eat.”

  “I told you to meet me at the Hideout.”

  “Why would I do that? You’re a great cook Renie.” He pulled out a container, and put it in the microwave.

  Was there a more confident man on the planet? If so, she hadn’t met him. And she’d been looking. First at Dartmouth, and now here in Fort Collins. She looked and looked for a man to help her forget about Billy Patterson. She hadn’t found one yet.

  Wherever he was, Billy owned the air. It belonged to him, and he took it. He used as much as he wanted, and figured if you needed any, you’d take it too.

  He opened drawers until he found a fork.

  “Did you eat?” he asked, as though he suddenly remembered she stood near him.

  “It’s almost eleven o’clock at night Billy. I ate hours ago.”

  “I didn’t.” He set the dish and fork down on the counter. “Wanna know why not?”

  No, she didn’t. So she shrugged.

  “’Cause you had me all wound up Renie.”

  “You sure you weren’t just hung over?”

  His eyes flared open wider, and in one long stride he stood in front of her. He pushed her back against the counter.

  “No. I wasn’t,” he said, getting his mouth close to hers, without their lips touching.

  She couldn’t move; he had her surrounded with his body. If he got any closer, every inch of him would be touching every inch of her.

  He shook his head, stepped back, and picked up his food.

  “Would you like to sit down while you eat?”

  He motioned to her table. “Doesn’t look as though there’s much room at your table sugar.”

  Dish still in hand, he looked at the books. “Intense.”

  “Stuff you’d know in your sleep.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Horses. You know more about them than I do Billy.”

  “Not all this kinda stuff I don’t.” He picked up a textbook on anatomy.

  “You may not know all the scientific terminology, but everything else?” She sat down on the couch. “I’ve never met anybody who understands them the way you do. It’s because you listen.”

  He put the dish in the sink. “We gotta talk about the other night.”

  “You were drunk Billy. I get that.”

  “And you think that’s why I kissed you?”

  She shrugged.

  He sat down next to her. “Not drunk now.” He pulled her into him, and kissed her. At first gentle, probing, his lips brushing back and forth over hers as his tongue gently pushed its way in. His other h
and came up and stroked her face, then moved to the back of her neck. His kiss deepened, harder, as his hand slid down to the buttons on her shirt.

  She grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

  “Let me in,” he murmured.

  Renie twisted away from him and stood. “I can’t do this Billy.” She wiped her hand across her mouth.

  Billy leaned forward and put his head in his hands. He took a few deep breaths. “Okay. We won’t do this, but we have to talk. Have to. You’re too important to me not to.”

  Renie went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Then closed it. She opened up a cupboard and closed it too. She leaned up against the counter.

  “Whatever answers you’re looking for aren’t in there. Come back out here and talk to me.”

  Renie turned the corner and leaned up against the wall.

  “Tell me what you’re thinkin’,” he pleaded.

  “You know me better than that Billy.”

  “Pretend I’m Pooh.”

  “There we go,” she laughed. “You know me too well,”

  “You think I never noticed your little motor mouth runnin’ when you were out in the pasture with your horse? I would’ve given anything to hear what you were talkin’ to her about.”

  You, always you Billy. I’ve been in love with you forever. And you’ve never thought of me as anything other than a little sister, or a pest. She closed her eyes at the hurt that pounded in her chest. As much joy as she felt when she saw him, it was always coupled with the pain, the yearning for him. It throbbed in every part of her body. She’d gotten so used to the feeling, it was a part of her being. Yearning for Billy, it’s what her body did naturally.

  Her eyes stayed closed, she focused on the ache of it. She didn’t realize he stood in front of her.

  He tucked her hair behind her ear; his hand lingered there. “I wish I could read your mind. I’ve always wished so.”

  Thank God he couldn’t, she’d never be able to look him in the face again.

  “You want me to tell you how I’m feelin’ about all this? About you and me…”

  Her eyes riveted to his; her brow furrowed. She bit her upper lip. He doubted she realized she did it. She looked terrified.

  “Renie, please.” His fingers caressed her face.

  She leaned her head into his hand. Her eyes closed again.

  “Go ahead,” he said. “Take a chance, tell me.”

  She nodded her head back and forth. “I can’t,” she whispered.

  He took her hand. “Come, sit with me.”

  Renie let him pull her to the couch. Her back was to the arm and she put her feet up, so her legs formed a wall of knee between the two of them. Billy rested his elbow on them.

  “Some say, in fact, I’ve heard you say it yourself, that I’ve been pitched off one too many broncs,” he shook his head and laughed. “And I suppose I act like it often enough. I’m thirty-three years old, and this is the first time I’ve lived in my own place. I’ve lived with my parents my whole life.”

  She nodded.

  “Out on the road all the time…let’s say there have been women in my life. You know what I’m sayin’?”

  She did, or at least she nodded again.

  Billy took her feet and pulled them, so her legs stretched over his. He put his arm on top of them.

  “The other day, when you touched my arm, you felt it too, didn’t you?”

  Now, she wouldn’t even look at him. She looked across the room.

  “Look at me, dammit.”

  Her head snapped back; her eyes met his.

  “Renie, I swear to God, this is the most important conversation I’ll ever have with you. You gotta pay attention to me. You’re killin’ me. Do you even realize it?”

  “No, I don’t.” She whispered again.

  “Do you know how ripped up I am about this?”

  No response, not even head movement.

  “That’s why I got drunk the other night. Because when you touched my arm, I felt it throughout my entire body. I almost pulled you into my arms and kissed you then. I wanted to so bad.”

  She closed her eyes.

  “How long have you felt it Renie?”

  That made her open her eyes, but she didn’t answer him.

  “Do you realize that you’re the only person I tell everything to? I don’t think I go more than a couple of hours without wanting to tell you something.”

  He did send her some random texts, all day, most days. She assumed he got lonely out on the road. Most of the guys traveled with somebody else. Billy never did. He said it messed with his head too much. He liked to have the time to think, without somebody interrupting him all the time.

  When her mom was recovering from her accident, they caravanned to different rodeos they both competed in, but they took their own trucks. Once, after her mother’s first rodeo, Renie rode home with Billy. He told her she was the only person he’d ever let ride with him—ever. He also told her he liked having her with him.

  “You’re my best friend.”

  It didn’t surprise her to hear him say so. It was part of the problem. Billy saw her as his friend. But now the problem changed. Is that what he struggled with?

  “We can stay friends Billy.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  She shrugged. “Long history between us. Don’t know if we want to mess it up.”

  “Damn Renie. There’s a lot I want to mess up with you, but not our history.”

  “I don’t know what that means Billy. Your friendship means the world to me, it always has. And I suppose you’re my best friend too.” She grinned. “But if you ever tell Blythe I said so, I’ll deny it.”

  He didn’t smile. He was close enough to her that she heard every breath he took. It was her breath he took away, all of it. He stared at her, and she didn’t look away.

  “How could I have been so blind?”

  She was glad he’d been blind. It saved her the awkward conversation. If Billy had told her he didn’t “feel that way,” about her, it would’ve destroyed her. It was better believing he didn’t know how she felt, so he never pushed her away. She’d be the friend, the best friend, but always on the inside, so she at least knew how he was feeling.

  “How long?”

  “Billy, don’t.”

  He got up and went into the kitchen. How long had she felt this thing between them? And how long had he been denying it? Memories started flooding back to him faster than his brain processed them. There she was, in every memory. Sometimes in the background, but always there.

  He stood in the kitchen with his hands on the edge of the counter, wondering what in the hell he should do next. He wanted to take her back into that bedroom and never leave.

  Renie came around the corner but stopped, and leaned up against it.

  “Let’s put that last couple of days behind us Billy. We can go back to how it was before.”

  “I can’t do that Renie.”

  “But…”

  She was about to cry again, and in all the years he’d known her, he rarely remembered seeing her cry.

  “I can’t lose you Billy. You mean too much to me.”

  “What makes you think you’re gonna lose me?”

  “I can’t be one of your girls Billy—the pack that follows you to rodeos.”

  “Irene Fairchild, you’ve never been one of a pack of anything. Not ever. And you never will be.”

  “You should go home.”

  “Nope. I’m not goin’ anywhere. We gotta work through this.”

  She bit her lip and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans.

  “I’m not sayin’ anything is gonna happen between us tonight, I’m just sayin’ that I’m not goin’ home.”

  If he wanted to reach out, pull her into him, and hold her close. What would she do if he did? She looked scared. He understood her being nervous, but Renie looked scared.

  He held his hand out to her, but she didn’t budge. He stepped closer.
His hand still extended in her direction. “Take my hand.”

  “Why?”

  “’Cause.”

  “Billy, I can’t—”

  “Take my hand. That’s it. That’s all you gotta do.”

  She took her hand out of her pocket.

  “You’re gettin’ closer.” Billy took another step forward.

  She put her hand in his and he pulled her into him. She stood with her arms at her sides. He put his arms around her anyway, his head softly leaning against hers.

  “Tell me what you’re afraid of,” he whispered.

  “You’ll break my heart Billy Patterson.”

  “Nah, I’d never do that to you Renie.”

  “You can’t guarantee it.”

  “Never. I promise.”

  He turned her, so she faced the same direction he did. “We’re gonna go to bed now Renie. And I’m gonna sleep with you tonight, but that’s all we’re gonna do.”

  Billy went into the bedroom, and Renie went into the bathroom. He took his clothes off, and then decided he better leave his boxer briefs on, at least. Since he promised her nothing would happen between them tonight.

  He wondered which side of the bed she slept on. Whichever it was, that’s where he wanted to be. He settled on the middle.

  She came in wearing a sweatshirt, that he swore used to be his, and flannel pajama bottoms. He could see less of her now than when she was fully dressed. But again, nothing was happening between them tonight.

  She saw where he was and shook her head, sliding in next to him.

  “You should sleep on top of the covers.”

  “What? You’re crazy, it’s freezing in here.”

  “But—”

  “You can trust me Renie. Now, get closer to me.” He put his arm around her and scooted her into him.

  “Put your head right here,” he said, patting his chest. When she did, he took her arm and draped it across his stomach.

  “Go to sleep.”

  It took only a few minutes until she sounded as though she was. It would be a long time before he did the same. He doubted he’d sleep at all tonight. He had a lot of thinking to do. Funny how he usually wanted to be alone when he needed to think on something. Tonight he’d think better with her by his side. That must mean something.