A confession of my own rises up my throat, too significant for me to swallow down, like I’ve successfullydone in the past. Tonight, it feels right, even if I know how big our next mountain will be.
Taking a big gulp of air, I revel in the way the words trickle from my tongue. “I’m in love with you, Billie Quinn. And when we get back, I’m going to drive to your family home, walk up the driveway, and let Scott know that you’re my girl.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
BILLIE
The day after we got back from the Catskills, my world came crashing down to reality with a thud when Mom invited Blake and me to join her and Maria for breakfast at Rise Up, the café where I first met Collins.
Trying to take inspiration from my pink-haired friend’s couldn’t-give-a-fuck attitude, I add another sweetener to my coffee and act like I haven’t noticed the frequent looks Maria keeps shooting at me when she thinks my mom isn’t watching.
Except I do give a fuck what she thinks, and with every side-eye from Maria, the knot in my stomach coils a little tighter.
There’s no way that she can know about Emmett and me. Every move we’ve made was carefully planned.
“How is motherhood treating you, Billie?” Maria asks with a faux smile designed for Mom.
I attempt a similar expression, picking my coffee up to buy myself a few seconds.
“Up and down,” I casually answer, tipping my head from side to side as I set the mug back down on the table.
She flicks her hair to one side, shoulders bunched aroundher ears. Nothing about this breakfast is relaxed. A need to jump up from my seat and wheel Blake out the door burns inside me.
From across the table, Mom’s brows draw together, almost like she can sense my discomfort. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?”
It’s the worst question she could’ve asked as I take a huge gulp of coffee to rinse away emotions I definitely shouldn’t allow on display.
“She’s just tired.” Maria fixes her dark eyes on me. “Aren’t you, Billie?”
Her tone is anything but concerned, although I nod in agreement anyway.
Shoulders still tight, she bites into a croissant and sets it on the plate in front of her. “I imagine that taking a newborn away must really be hard work.”
Mom’s head darts to me, brows furrowed even deeper. “But Billie hasn’t been away with Blake yet?” Her statement comes off as more of a question, and both women wait on clarification.
Glancing at the exit, I wonder how many seconds it would take me to grab Blake’s stroller and be out of the door and whether either of them would chase after me for answers.
Of course they would.
I clear my throat and look between them. “We haven’t been away yet.” Adding a light chuckle to sell the lie I hate telling, I double down and confirm, “I’m barely able to cope at home, let alone somewhere else.”
Reaching across the table, Mom takes my hand, circling her thumb over the top.
I force down another swallow, knowing this could be the last time in a while that I’ll benefit from her comforting touch.
After practice, Emmett plans to make good on another promise when he sits my parents down in their living room and confesses everything that’s been happening between us.
“Oh.” Maria looks doubtful, sarcasm lacing her voice. “Sillyme. I must have mistaken you for somebody else carrying a baby and a suitcase.”
Instantly, my mind races, cycling through potential moments when Maria could’ve seen us.
Mom just chuckles, like this whole atmosphere isn’t the most awkward situation to have ever existed. Surely, she can sense the tension. It’s written right across her best friend’s face.
After a few unbearable seconds, Mom claps her hands. “How about a coffee? I could sure go for another caffeine hit after this week at work.”
I motion to my half-full mug and then to an untouched plate of eggs. “I’m good, thanks.”
Snapping out of a trance, Maria clicks her tongue as Mom stands and grabs her purse. “I’ll take one of their scones with jelly and clotted cream. It’s been too long since I had a layover in London, and I’m craving British baking.”
