by L. B. Dunbar
“I’m still walking you. It’s the gentlemanly thing.” He’s mocking me, and I huff, but he’s already looped my hand into the crook of his elbow, holding his warm fingers over my hand like a clamp, and leading me out of the tent.
If he wants rumors, he’s about to set them in motion.
Billy guides me along the sidewalk to the back stairs of my building. He shifts to take my hand, and I follow him as we take the stairs. For a moment, I imagine us walking like a couple, entering my apartment and falling into each other, but the thought quickly passes when we reach the landing. I pause a second, and Billy steps back to lean against the railing.
“Can I ask you something?” His voice lowers.
“Sure.” I turn to face him and lean against the screen door at my back. I feel like I’m on a first date, and it’s the moment of should I kiss him good night or not. Only this is Billy Harrington.
“Who would be the man of your dreams? Was it really a rock star?”
I’m startled by the question and start to giggle until I realize he’s serious.
I cough to clear the chuckle. “I just want a man who can love me for who I am, who can understand who I am.” Chad didn’t mind me being the manager of a major bookstore chain, but he wasn’t interested in supporting my dream to be a business owner. He also tolerated Sadie but didn’t love children.
“Where were you when we were younger?”
I glance away from him, realizing we’re stretching toward a more serious topic. “I wasn’t exactly the type of girl you’d notice when we were younger.” I won’t tell him about the weight. He’s never acted like he remembers me as a kid, and I’d rather not jog his memory. “Besides, you went to school with my sister. We didn’t go to high school at the same time.”
Billy nods, and there’s so much unspoken history between us. My sister had a major crush on him, but I know all about Rachel, his first wife, and how they were high school sweethearts. What I don’t know is why they divorced, but rumor has it Billy had an affair. His flirtatious fame skyrocketed after Rachel, starting with my sister.
“Can I ask you a question?” I press off the door at my back and make a bold step toward him. With his backside leaning on the railing and his hands balancing on either side of his hips, he’s sexy as hell. His eyes—the best feature on him—momentarily look nervous as I approach.
“Okay,” he says, his voice lowering and rippling down my body. This time, it’s more like a rain shower.
“Why haven’t you ever hit on me like you hit on other women?”
“What?” His voice cracks like a teenager, and my hand strokes up his chest, curling around the collar at his neck. My eyes focus on the opening near his throat, and I want to slip my tongue—which feels thick in my mouth—in the little gap of his collarbone.
“Am I not attractive to you? Am I not good enough for you to bang against a brick wall?”
“Are you serious?” He chokes out.
“Just once, I want to be good enough for wall sex,” I slur, and his eyes widen.
“Roxie, you’re—”
“Why haven’t you kissed me?”
“I did, remember? You didn’t like it,” he states, lifting a finger to scrape down his tongue, imitating me from that night.
“It’s not that I didn’t like it.” My voice drops, and I swallow back the saliva building. “I just thought you had kissed someone else first.”
“Well, I didn’t,” he defensively states, and I move on.
“You suggested I kiss you while we danced. Did you mean it, or where you just singing off-key with the wrong words?” He wasn’t really singing poorly, and even though he botched the words, a rush ripped up my body at the suggestion. My stomach flip flops now. I can’t believe I asked him these questions, and I can’t believe how much I’m leaning on him. My breasts rest against his chest as my heart hammers in mine. The bulge in his jeans near my lower belly isn’t low enough.
“How much have you had to drink tonight, darlin’?” His voice sounds like the way he flirted with Letty. Is he flirting with me? Does he want me like he wanted her?
I lean forward, ready to take what I want from him. Kiss me, my lips scream as my eyes focus on his mouth.
And then hands come to my shoulders and press me back.
“Wha—” I stammer as the reality slowly seeps in.
“I think I’ll be a gentleman this time.”
He’s rejecting me. I’m throwing myself at him, and he still isn’t interested. I’m mortified at my lack of seduction skills and the fact I can’t even attract Billy Harrington, manwhore galore. He really isn’t interested in someone like me. I step back, wrapping my arms around my middle. My stomach pitches, and my heart races faster than it should. Sweat trickles over my brow as I bend at the waist and heave all over his boots.
+ + +
I wake with a heaviness in my head and my heart. My tongue feels thick and swollen and dry as a hairy cat. I try to lick my teeth but feel a scratchy sensation in my throat. A sour taste fills my mouth.
Crap. I threw up.
My eyes whip open, and the room spins, so I quickly close them again. Even my lids feel heavy and then I realize there’s a weight over my waist. My palm moves down the cool sheet before touching fingers draped over my stomach. I roll my head too quickly, forcing the room to whirl, and glance over my shoulder to find Billy behind me.
What?
I lift my head and discover I’m still wearing the dress I wore last night minus my cowboy boots. My toes wiggle, and I discover bare feet underneath mine. Billy isn’t wearing his boots either.
Boots.
Oh God.
I puked all over his boots.
After that, the night goes hazy, but I obviously made it to my bed with Billy Harrington at my back.
“Billy,” I whisper, feeling his forearm under my palm. His skin is warm, and he’s deep in sleep, the arm heavy over my belly. My stomach flips, but I don’t have anything left inside to release.
Good Lord, I drank too much last night.
Then what happened before I vomited returns to me.
Billy. My landing. Almost kissing him. Almost.
“Billy,” I harshly whisper.
“Not yet, baby. I need to sleep a little longer,” he mutters, nuzzling into my neck, but I’m certain he has no idea I’m the person he’s nuzzling. He nudges forward, pressing the solid length of him against my backside.
“William,” I hiss.
“Okay, darlin’. I can sleep-fuck.” He rolls me to my back, then slips over me, forcing my legs apart and leaning down for my face without opening his eyes.
I place fingers over my closed lips. There’s no way he’s kissing me. My mouth feels like an animal died inside there, and my breath must be rank.
When Billy lowers, his lips meet my fingers, and his eyes spring open.
“Roxie,” he mutters against my clamped digits. He lifts his head, eyes sleepy and dazed. “What time is it?”
I roll my head on the pillow and note the time on the bedside clock. “Five a.m.”
Billy leaps off me and rushes to the window, tugging back the curtain. The street must be clean, but how long has he been here. My room isn’t very large, and he turns back toward the bed, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. He quickly sends a text and then sets the phone back.
“What happened?” I ask as he stares down at the phone. My question is meant to ask why he’s here, in my bed, next to me.
“You were sick.” He scrubs two hands down his face and kneels on the edge of the mattress. “Look, I’ve only had about an hour of sleep. You mind if I crash here just a little longer to get my bearings?”
“Okay.” My voice is hoarse as I watch him crawl back onto my bed and collapse on his stomach. His face is positioned away from me, and I roll on my side, facing away from him, only my head is full while my stomach is empty. My heart feels a little empty as well.
16
Boo – gotchou
> [Roxanne]
“Aunt Roxie?” The tender concern in Sadie’s voice rouses me from dozing on the couch. After Billy fell back to sleep, which happened rather quickly and was evident from his light snoring, I escaped my bedroom for the bathroom. I looked awful. Pale face. Bright red lips. Eyes too wide. Brushing my teeth made me feel only minimally better, and I changed into a longish T-shirt nightshirt. Pulling the afghan on the couch over my legs, I rested my head on the back cushions and promptly fell into a body-draining nap. I’d been thinking about Billy and losing Sadie and wishful dreaming we could somehow be together when Sadie roused me.
My lids blink in disorientation, and then I remember why I’m on the couch. Billy’s in my bedroom.
“Sadie,” I whisper, my voice still scratchy.
“Are you okay?” She helps herself to sit next to me on the cushions.
“Yeah, baby girl. I’m just not feeling well.”
“You drank too much,” she admonishes, a teasing lilt to her voice.
“How do you know that?” I wonder, although she knew I was going to the party.
“Billy helped you in the door.” It’s strange to hear her call him Billy, but she’s not comfortable calling him her dad yet. She pauses for another moment, and my eyes close. The pressure in my head feels like a clamp. “Are you a couple now?”
“He…I…No, baby. We aren’t together.” Nothing happened. Literally. He rejected me. Is he even still here? I didn’t hear him leave. “He only spent the night.”
“I know what that means, you know.” She giggles, throwing herself back against the cushions.
“It means he spent the night. He slept here and nothing else.” Although I’m still puzzled why this happened. Why did he stay after rejecting me? Then again, I hate to think what might have happened had he started kissing me. Oh God, I internally groan and cover my forehead with a shaky palm.
“You know, it’d be okay to be a couple with him. Then I could be with both of you.”
Uh-huh. “Oh, sweetheart. We aren’t going to be separated, no matter what.” I reach for her hand and pull it to my chest. “I love you forever.” Tears well in my eyes. I’m tired. I’m hungover. And I don’t want to think about losing her.
“Hey,” Billy interjects quietly from the hallway. He leans against the wall with his hands slipped into his front pockets. He’s wearing only a T-shirt, having removed his Oxford at some point.
“What time is it?” I ask, repeating his question to me earlier.
“It’s seven,” Sadie answers, surprising me that she’s awake so early on a Sunday.
“I guess I should get going,” Billy says without moving away from the wall.
“Is everything cleaned up outside?” I’m not intending to be snarky. I’m just curious. If he stayed with me for the remainder of the night, who took care of the party?
“Yeah, it’s covered. But I’m gonna owe some favors.” He removes a hand from his jeans and scrubs his throat, which scratches with the sound of his thicker stubble. He still looks delicious, standing sleepy and groggy in my hallway, and I hate how I notice this about him. “So I should probably…’’ He points over his shoulder with this thumb.
“Or you could stay for breakfast,” Sadie offers.
“Sadie,” I hush-whisper. The last thing Billy wants to do is spend the morning with us.
“How do you feel about pancakes?” Billy asks.
Oh God, I couldn’t stomach pancakes, and I groan in response.
“Maybe eggs for Aunt Roxie. Do you know how to cook?” Sadie asks with a teasing voice. I notice she’s forgiven him for not calling and missing out the other night. I also realize we’ve never been to Billy’s house, and I wonder why. Well, Sadie hasn’t. I shouldn’t include myself in the invitation. My heart weighs heavy again when I consider Sadie may someday be at his house, and I’m the one who will need an invitation to see her.
“You okay, Aunt Roxie? You don’t look so good.”
“My boots are outside. Want me to grab them for you?” Billy teases. I smirk back at him but wince with the pain to my head. He chuckles, and then adds, “Breakfast is my specialty.”
“I bet it is,” I mumble to myself while Sadie hops off the couch to lead Billy to the kitchen. Making breakfast together is our thing, but I can see where Sadie needs to get used to doing it with someone else.
“Thanks for letting me sleep,” Billy says, his hands now on the corner of the wall while his head rests against it. His slow grin does funny things to me, but maybe that’s the residue of vomiting.
I wave a hand, dismissing him, and shrug.
“You didn’t sleep okay? You moved out here.” He nods toward the blanket covering my legs. I’m suddenly aware how short the nightshirt is underneath the blanket and how revealing it would be to stand before him.
“I didn’t want to disturb you,” I say, although it isn’t true. When he laid back down, I felt his rejection again and didn’t want to stay on the bed with him.
“Huh.” Billy double taps his hands on the wall and disappears down my hallway.
Huh is right, buddy. What are you doing here?
I finally drag myself to the kitchen after finding a pair of yoga pants to slip under my short tee. Sadie’s giggles and Billy’s smiles make me feel like an intruder in my own home. They work in symmetry in my small space, falling into a rhythm while they discuss baking breakfast foods. My heart pinches, knowing this might be Sadie’s future. Sundays…without me. I should be used to it. Sadie isn’t my child, and I’ve lived without her easy presence for three years, but when she was a child, this was our routine. I’d let my sister sleep and make a big breakfast with Sadie.
“Coffee?” Billy asks over his shoulder. I hadn’t even noticed he noticed me standing in the doorway.
“That would be a dream,” I say, and Billy stops, pausing with the batter-filled cup over the electric griddle but not pouring it. Did he ask me something about a dream last night? I’m so fuzzy on the details once we walked up the stairs, but not fuzzy enough to remember I threw myself at him and he rejected me.
“Dreams coming true. That’s me.” Billy pats his chest with a loud thump, grins slowly at me, and then turns back for the griddle.
Give me that coffee. Stat.
Billy does make me scrambled eggs and toast, and the whole experience of him cooking and me doing nothing in my own kitchen makes me uneasy. I’m on edge while we pass through the meal and feel drained once again after I eat.
“Seems Aunt Roxie needs more rest,” Billy teases, leaning on the table.
“Except you cooked so she needs to clean. House rules.” I have no idea what she means as I cook and clean every night, although Sadie does help me with the dishes most evenings.
“I think today we’ll give Roxie a pass.” Billy winks at me, and it’s obvious this is some private joke between them. I feel even more like an outsider, and I just want to go to my room.
“Yeah, it seems beer and I aren’t good company as I get older.” I glance over at Sadie, a little embarrassed at admitting I’m hungover at forty-one.
“Beer and you are just fine as company. It’s the overindulgence that gets you every time.”
Again, I’m ready to retort with he should know, but I bite my lip and offer a tight smile. Billy’s brows pinch in question, but I’m not about to get into it with him. He swipes his hands over his thighs and stands, picking up his plate and mine.
“I’ll do it,” I say.
“You need to go back to bed. I got it today.”
“Just stack them. I’ll do them later,” I snap, losing my will to hold my tongue. This is what we do. We bicker, and I’m looking for a fight with him. Maybe it will restore my equilibrium.
Billy questions me again with softened eyes, but I glance away. I don’t have the strength to read the whiskey color.
“Okay, I really need to check on what happened last night and the closing up of things.”
Sadie gives him a short wave.
“I have homework, so I’ll see you later.” Her voice hesitates, waiting on Billy to confirm he will see her again, and maybe even add when.
“See ya, kiddo.” Then he does something he’s never done before. He steps up to her and kisses her near the temple. Sadie blushes and turns on her heels for her room.
“That was sweet,” I say, startled by the move.
“I can be, you know. Do the gentleman thing and all.”
I think I’ll be a gentleman tonight.
“Yeah…so…about last night. I’m really sorry…about…everything.” The missed kiss. The puked-on boots. Spending the night.
“It happens,” he says as if not fazed by anything. Women probably throw themselves at him all the time. I’m only surprised he passed up some willing opportunity last night to stay with me. Then again, it reaffirms what I’ve always known. He isn’t interested in someone like me.
“I’ll see my ladies later.”
Not only do his words surprise me with the collective possessive, but then he startles me by stepping up and kissing my temple similar to how he kissed Sadie’s. It does nothing to comfort me. Instead, it solidifies how he sees me. Although I’m too old to be a daughter to him, he considers me like a sister, and being the sister-friend is never a great thing.
+ + +
Monday begins my Halloween themed sale, Booktober, and I’m overwhelmingly busy, which is a good thing. It doesn’t provide me time to reflect on the missed kiss with Billy or the plaguing question of why he stayed the night. He’s come to visit Sadie, now joining us three nights a week for dinner, but I’m in such a rush, working double shifts with Grace, that I hardly have time to chat with him. He’s grown very comfortable with visiting my apartment, and I note again he hasn’t invited Sadie to his place.
My bookstore has an old library table near the front where I can watch kids who hang out work on homework. Sadie hasn’t been part of those crowds, and I worry about her making friends here. She hasn’t mentioned anyone other than the classmates causing trouble during class.