Chapter Three
Gus
I don’t know what I was expecting to come home to the day Billy Daley moved into my house, but quiet darkness was not it. The Billy I’d once known—if I’d ever known him at all—had been mayhem and colour. Not shadows and silence. If I hadn’t read Luke’s text to say Billy was safely inside, I’d have thought he’d changed his mind and taken himself and his mysterious cat elsewhere.
On cue, a regal-looking feline emerged from the kitchen and stared me down. I’d never felt so unwelcome in my own home, but I was used to cats. My mother had left two behind when she’d died, and they’d despised me so much they’d had to go and live with the old lady up the road.
This one didn’t seem particularly violent, though. Or maybe it was a devil and I was fooled by how pretty it was.
I knelt and held out my hand. The cat inched forward, but at the last moment, shied away and flounced back to the kitchen. I followed it and discovered a drawer from my old tool chest being used as a litter tray. Creative. I liked it. I made a note to dig my mum’s old gear out of the loft. As cute as it was, a cat that spectacular deserved a proper toilet.
The cat settled itself on a pile of clean washing and turned its back on me. I took the hint and left the kitchen in search of my new houseguest.
Damp footprints led me from the bathroom to the bedroom my sister had slept in before she’d moved in with Luke. The door was closed and not a sound could be heard from inside. I raised my hand to knock. Changed my mind, and lowered it. Rinse and repeat until the door flew open and I found myself face to face with Billy Daley for the first time in who-the-hell-knew how long.
Wow. If I’d been holding out hope that he wouldn’t be as hot as he’d been all those years ago, I was fresh out of luck. Sandy hair, damp and mussed from the shower, dark scruff, and piercing blue eyes...he’d aged like fine wine. Skinnier than I remembered, but as gorgeous as he’d ever been, and yet somehow different to the boy I’d tried to forget.
His trademark scowl was undeniable, though. Billy had a way—even more than his cat—of making you feel stupid for breathing, and younger me might’ve taken a step back.
But this was my house and I had two stone of muscle on him these days. Adulthood and lonely hours in the gym had filled me out. I tipped my chin. “Found your room then?”
Billy’s eyes widened a touch, but his glower remained. “Was I not supposed to?”
“Making conversation, mate. And I wasn’t sure if Luke showed you round or dumped you on the doorstep.”
That earned me a slight smirk. “He showed me round. Gave me a towel and some pocket money. Regular daddy, ain’t he?”
“One day, maybe, if he can ever tame my sister. He forced cash on me too. Think he’s worried you might fall victim to my terrible cooking, so I’m gonna go out and get some pizza. Wanna come?”
“Come where?”
“To the pizza place. It’s next to the pub, so we can get a beer while we wait.”
Billy chewed on his lip, and an overwhelming urge to stop him swept over me.
My hands itched. I shoved them in my pockets and feigned indifference with a shrug. “Don’t worry if you’re not up for it. I can leave you in peace.”
Still nothing. A wariness I couldn’t decipher marred Billy’s sharp features, and I suddenly felt bad for suggesting something so simple. And for assuming he’d want to touch base with me. Perhaps he’d been banking on us avoiding each other, but if Luke’s plan for his employment panned out, unfortunately for Billy, he was stuck with me in more ways than one.
The heavy silence stretched out. I started to back up.
Billy caught my wrist. “Um. Wait. Sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to, just not sure if I fancy braving Rushmere’s finest drinking crowds yet. It’s been a while, you know?”
“I know.” I considered his words and wondered what could be so daunting about a quick drink in the pub. Then I remembered Billy had lived a different life in this town to the rest of us. Not content to bumble along, he’d run with the dregs, constantly in trouble with the police and banned from the high street, rarely without fight-won cuts and bruises to his knuckles. It was highly likely there were faces he didn’t want to see...if he was serious about staying out of trouble.
And it was a bigif. I didn’t know much about Billy anymore, but I knew that.
I also knew that he was still gripping my wrist hard enough to leave a bruise, and that I liked it enough for my blood to run hot.
With more effort than I wanted to contemplate, I reclaimed my arm.
Billy blinked, as if he’d forgotten he was holding it.
I chanced a soft fist to his bicep. “Okay. I’m gonna phone it in and go pick it up. That way neither of us has to cook—which you’ll be grateful for after I’ve run through my repertoire of pretty average omelettes—and we can bypass the pub completely.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Actually, I do. I promised Luke I wouldn’t leave you alone on your first night, I’m starving, and I hate eating alone, so—”
