She cleared her throat. “Coffee?”
Debra regarded her with a cautious, hopeful smile. “Yes. Just coffee.”
Oh, you need to walk away right now.
Billie needed the safety of her rules and boundaries. She needed silence while she mulled over the fact that she’d even agreed to lunch with Debra Allen. She should have done the sensible thing that she was good at…and avoid this woman at all costs.
But she nodded. “All right.”
“Good.” Debra’s smile grew wider. “I’m just around the corner.”
As they crossed the road towards Debra’s building, Billie felt a truth settle deep in her chest with finality. For all her rules, and all her rehearsed restraint…she wasentirelylost.
Chapter Thirteen
Debra’s flatwas smaller than Billie expected it to be, but it was a beautiful, bright space. It was the total opposite of Billie’s place, and even though Debra hadn’t been here long, it looked like the kind of place that was lived in.A real,actualhome.
Soft throws over the back of the couch, a vase of tulips on the windowsill. The scent of coffee from earlier that day rested faintly in the air, and Debra’s perfume—the very one that clung to Billie’s skin—greeted her as she stepped further inside.
God, this was the kind of place Billie had been missing for a long time.
Somewhere that felt cosy. A place to gather at any time of day, knowing you’d be safe and looked after. Somewhere where love resided, and comfort was a priority. Not the shell that she lived inside. Not the dark rooms and the spotlessly clean corners of her apartment. She may live in something high-end and flashy to most, and Debra’s wasn’t far off that, but when she closed the door each night, the wealth didn’t matter. Feeling invisible did.
“Make yourself at home,” Debra said, setting her keys on the counter.
Billie smiled as she removed her gloves. “I’ll do my best.”
She shrugged her coat off and draped it neatly over the arm of the chair. Debra poured two cups of coffee, her movements visible in the open-plan space. The domesticity of it—the sound of a spoon against porcelain, the coffee machine grinding the beans—did something strange to Billie’s entire body.
“Milk?” Debra gazed back at her from the other side of the room. “Sugar?”
“No sugar, and black is fine, thank you.”
“Have a seat. I’ll be right there.”
Billie obeyed, sinking into the deep, comfortable cushions. It felt odd to be sitting in someone else’s space. Not as a guest in a client’s home, and not as a friend over at Ella’s place, but as…whatever this was.
When Debra joined her, setting two cups down and tucking one leg beneath herself, Billie found her gaze drawn to the small details once again. The way the afternoon light caught the fine lines around Debra’s eyes, her windswept hair that looked gorgeous without fixing it, and the steady pulse at the base of her throat.
“You’re quiet,” Debra said against the rim of her cup. “You didn’t have to come up. I just wanted to offer since we’d had a lovely lunch together.”
“I’m okay. I’m just taking it all in.” Billie reached for her black coffee and brought it into her lap.
“My boring flat?”
“Your world.”
That earned Billie the most beautiful laugh. “It’s really not very interesting.”
“But it’s real, and that’s rarer than you think.”
Debra tilted her head and studied her. “You don’t let people in, do you? Intoyourworld.”
“No.” Billie sipped her coffee, savouring the taste of the blend. God, Debra even had great coffee.You’re in deep trouble here. “It’s easier that way.”
“Safer?”
Billie lifted a brow, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. “You’ve been listening.”
