“Son of a bitch.”Rolling onto his back, he stared at the ceiling and tried to catch his breath.His cock ached and his teeth ground.
Outside, the bird was tweeting up a storm.The high notes pierced right into his conscience.“Hooked.Your promise.Not good for you.”
Rocking upwards, Billy swung his legs over the side of the bed.The weight of the previous day settled once again on his shoulders.So much for a good night’s sleep.
He glanced over his shoulder when Roxie shifted.
So much for a good morning.
He plucked his jeans off the floor and watched her sleep on, oblivious, as he zipped them.What would have happened if she’d woken up to find him inside her without a rubber?
He blew out a breath.Yeah, that would have been trouble, all right.All hell would have come raining down on his head.
Raking a hand through his hair, he headed to the kitchen.
What was wrong with him?
He’d spent hours under the hood of Skeeter’s truck yesterday.As he’d tinkered with the engine, he’d also analyzed what was going on under his own lid.It hadn’t been pretty.
He was messed up over her.He knew it.He felt it.
Things had to change.They couldn’t keep going around in circles like this.So yeah, he’d made some promises to himself.
Then he’d gone to the bar and found her feeling up that blond Brad Pitt type, and he’d broken every last one of them.How was he supposed to know the guy was Lexie’s brother?And did that really matter?Seeing her with somebody else had shut down his brain.He’d been acting on gut instinct.Pure, primal instinct.
He swore when water spilled over the countertop and dripped onto his bare foot.Unplugging the coffee pot, he cleaned up the mess.He poured the water down the drain and turned on the light overhead.Seeing the problem, he started pulling open drawers, looking for something he could use to fix it.
Too bad he didn’t have a tool to fix what was wrong with him.
But he did.
He’d figured out what would solve everything—time and space.He’d meant what he’d said.Once he left this time, he wasn’t coming back.
It was the only way to preserve his sanity.It was the only way he’d ever be able to move on.
He stared at the coffee as it began to stream smoothly into the pot.
But did he want to move on?He heard her mumble in her sleep, and his fingers curled around a coffee cup he found in a cupboard.He wanted her so badly, his chest ached.
Was this like the craving his mother fought day in and day out?
He moved to the sofa, away from the bedroom and, hopefully, out of hearing range.As close as he wanted to be to Roxie, she always held him at arm’s length.The sex was great but being pushed off her afterwards wasn’t.She held him off emotionally, too.
He couldn’t keep fighting against that brick wall.
He took a drink and pulled his phone out of his pocket.He might as well start tying up loose ends.
“Fishing today?”he texted to Charlie.
The answer came back sooner than he expected.For someone who’d worked the night shift for decades, the former barkeep was transitioning well.Billy quickly made plans with his old friend.With the way things were going, he’d probably be heading out of town sooner rather than later.He didn’t want Charlie to get caught up in the middle.
Task done, Billy took another drink of his coffee.He was rubbing at the tension in the back of his neck when he noticed something on the floor, tucked up under the sofa.Something black and dangerous looking…
Roxie’s boot.
He picked up the leather footwear and its unattached heel.Sitting back, he considered the break.
She’d done it up good.
