Up until the text I just received from Scott, everything has been going smoothly. Billie and Blake entered my apartment without being noticed.
Slicing the final potato, I pick up my phone and stare down at the message, racking my brain over what he’s referring to.
Fuck.
The second Billie strolls into my kitchen, the reason behind Scott’s text hits me.
We were supposed to watch a soccer game at Lloyd’s tonight, and I offered to pick him up from home, given he’s not able to drive at the moment.
When Billie sees my face, she stops in her tracks, Blake’s baby monitor suspended in one hand.
Dressed in black leggings and an oversize pink sweater, she looks fucking glorious with her hair piled on top of her head, deep red strands cascading around a heart-shaped face. Women around the world spend hours perfecting their appearance and still come up short compared to Billie in everyday casuals.
Big green eyes drop to the phone in my hand, a silent question in them.
“I was supposed to be heading out with Scott tonight,” I explain, scratching at the back of my neck. “And I completely forgot.”
She points at the phone. “That’s him messaging you about it, isn’t it?”
I give her a tight nod.
Coming to sit at my kitchen island, she hops onto one of the stools, splaying her palms out against the marble top.
“It’s not too late to go now. I can take over the dinner and leave some for you to reheat when you get home.”
I don’t think I’ve ever hated an idea as much as I hate the one she just suggested.
I shake my head, immediately giving her a, “No. I’ll tell him that I came down with the flu.”
Billie looks unsure, twisting her hands around, as she always does when she’s either deep in thought or uncomfortable.
I want to stride across the kitchen and take them in mine, partly for an excuse to touch her and partly so she’ll stop freaking out, like I know she is right now.
My body stays rooted to the same spot, fingers moving over my keyboard as I type out a reply to Scott.
“You said that you never lie.” Billie’s observation stops me before I hit Send on the message, and I look up at her, chest tightening, stomach coiling. “And you shouldn’t start by lying to your friend.”
She’s right; I don’t lie. In all the years I was married to Maria, I always told her the truth, especially when she asked me if we weredone for the final time. I’ve also never lied to Scott before, but then I’ve never been in this kind of situation either.
“I can grab Blake, and you can drop me at Mom and Dad’s at the same time you pick him up.”
I take my previous thought back. I hate her latest suggestion even more.
When she goes to slide off the stool, I make my decision, hitting Send on a text claiming that I’m sick.
Billie tracks the movement, rounding the counter and coming to stand in front of me.
I set the phone down on the counter, fingers itching to reach out and touch her.
“What are we doing, Emmett?” Her whispered question isn’t one I can supply with a straight answer.
“Spending time together because we want to.” My urge to touch her wins out, and I reach up, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Aside from tonight, how many more opportunities will we get to do this?”
She pins her bottom lip between her teeth. “You can always come over to my place.”
I sigh, “Sure. Because we haven’t already had one unexpected visitor. Who’s to say the next one won’t be Freya?”
“We could tell them that we’re friends—because that’s what we are, right?”
