Pieces of Us

Chapter 15 Papercut

Lincoln

I pull into my reserved parking spot underground and cut the engine. It’s three P.M., and instead of going home after my last off-site meeting, I came back to the office to get on top of my never-ending admin work.

The majority of this could be done at home, but the silence there is deafening. I could have met up with a few mates for some afternoon drinks, but it’s a weekday and I’m not feeling much of anything lately.

So, back to the office it is. I enjoy spending most of my time here because it’s a distraction from the emptiness that is my life. I can sink my teeth into my work and not worry about going home to complete desolation.

Snatching my phone and briefcase from the passenger seat, I step out, lock the car and head for the elevator.

There aren’t as many colleagues as there were this morning, with some leaving to go and pick up children from school and others scheduling their last appointments off-site so they can go home. Most of the offices are locked, leaving only the admin and support services staff at their desks.

‘Lincoln.’ I’m so focused on observing the quiet ambience of the office that I almost walk straight past Billie, who is perched on the edge of the receptionist desk. We’re in a weird dynamic at the moment. She still wants me, but she’s also seething that I don’t want anything more than a quick fuck.

My stomach drops at our complicated history.

I gave my heart away a long time ago. It wasn’t fair on Billie that she couldn’t fill that void. But what she did was make me feel wanted. She is sweet, funny, loyal and she makes me feel loved. I know she has her faults, like being jealous and insecure. I could have looked past those traits if it didn’t manifest into ugliness towards Amity. That is inexcusable.

Ever since I found out Amity was coming back, it felt wrong to be too friendly with Billie. After speaking with Amity for the first time in years, I was bombarded with a deluge of memories and emotions of our life together.

Anyone but her will always feel like a poor substitute.

Despite having sex with Billie less than a couple of months ago out of familiarity and comfort, I knew I would never do it again, because it wasn’t fair to keep giving her mixed signals.

‘Billie.’ I nod cordially. ‘How’s the afternoon been?’

She smiles, standing to full height in what looks like stilt-like-ankle-breaking stilettos and NSFW attire. The red dress she’s wearing looks like a second skin and is so low cut, I’m sure there’s even a bit of nipple peeping out. The length is indecently short as well.

In a flash, giving me zero time to react, she gives me a swift hug and kiss on my jaw. ‘It’s been a breeze.’ She fluffs off imaginary lint on my jacket, getting entirely too close. I can even smell her perfume. She’s still gorgeous, but the only feelings that remain are regret and guilt, tossed in with a bit of resentment for how she treated Amity.

She walks her french-tipped nails up my shirt for absolutely no reason. ‘I was hoping we could have grabbed lunch, but maybe tomorrow?’

‘Uh, yeah, maybe.’ She pouts as I dismiss making concrete plans. I check my phone in a bid to get away from her. ‘Sorry, can’t chat right now. Have to call a client.’ I wave my phone at her, practically scampering to my office.

As much as I wanted to be productive this afternoon, all hopes in hell have gone up in flames as I obsess over how Amity has dropped off the radar since our last text exchange. I swivel in my chair, pondering how to get her to talk to me. Unable to satiate my cravings, I settle for googling her. At least I can see her from a distance. Most of the photos that pop up are of her scantily-clad, and while undoubtedly sexy, being so close to her fully-clothed at Dad’s party reminded me how beautiful she is.

The shorts and shirt she was wearing were like a beacon to me, causing me to hone in on her no matter what corner of the house she was hiding in. My eyes greedily took in the curve of her cleavage, the swell of her ass—breasts and ass I’d kill to feel under the palm of my hands or swipe of my tongue.

Will it ever happen again? Not unless Jesus Christ himself grants me a miracle. She is still simmering in anger, but underneath it all, I can still feel this undeniable fire that is charged with sexual intensity. Am I crazy? Is it one-sided?

With a frustrated breath, I run my fingers through my hair, pulling at it so I can feel anything but helplessness.

A knock at the door brings me out of my depressing musings.

‘Come in,’ I call, granting access to whomever is behind the closed door.

‘Just thought you might need some company,’ the sultry voice of Billie sounds out.

‘Billie. Who is manning the front desk?’

She pouts as she steps into my space.

‘I just thought everyone has gone home, and I could help you…with whatever you need.’ I don’t miss the innuendo in her voice or the fact that her eyes drop to my lap.

I shake my head. ‘I’m good. Thanks.’

A determined glint shimmers in her eyes as she crowds me, moving forward into my personal space. Any closer and her ass will be polishing my desk, or worse, my lap. ‘But I’ve always known what you needed.’

‘Billie. We need to remain professional.’ I try to correct her behaviour.

‘We can do that too.’ She winks as she slides her dress inches up her thigh, stopping at her lacy underwear.

‘Hey!’ I immediately jump from my chair, moving it in front of me so it acts as a barrier between us. ‘You need to leave.’ I avert my eyes from her translucent G-string.

‘Come on. Let’s just let off a bit of steam. Your dad’s not here. Mr. Hartford isn’t here. Everyone has practically left for the day. I need a screaming orgasm, and I miss how hard you fuck me. It’s been weeks.’ She hasn’t made any attempt to cover up.

She slithers closer, but I push the chair in front of me to stop her from getting to me. I won’t lie. Her offer is tempting. She’s what I’ve known for so long. If Amity wasn’t back, I can’t say I'd be turning her down like this. I’ve always loved fucking, and Billie fucks damn good. I just know that if I go back to my old ways, it’ll be harder to break this vicious pattern.

‘Not going to happen, Billie. Never again.’ I really didn’t want to have to be so brutal, but I need her to get the message, once and for all.

Her face flushes in anger as she yanks the dress down carelessly.

‘Fuck you, Lincoln,’ she hisses before storming off. I can see half her ass cheek is still hanging out, but I don’t want to embarrass her in front of those who might still be lingering, so I let her teeter back to her desk.

I don’t think Billie is a bad person. I just think she does bad things and makes bad choices sometimes. She gets in her head too much. Admittedly, I think I’ve made her worse with how I’ve strung her along. If there was no Amity, I could see myself with Billie. But there is an Amity. Forever. Even if she doesn’t want me.

I’ve made a clusterfuck of this twisted love triangle. ‘Fuck. Me,’ I exasperate out loud.

My phone goes off as I slump back down.

Dad: Amity is on her way over.