Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Debra’s flat was 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, actual home.
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? Into your world.”
“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.”
“It’s hard not to. You talk about control like it’s the air you breathe.”
Billie chose not to respond to that. Her emotions were too close to the surface for honesty, and she wasn’t in the right headspace for diverting the conversation away from her with something totally unrelated. Not with Debra.
Debra leaned back against the cushions, her cup cradled in both hands, and watched Billie. “What happens when you finally let it go?”
“I don’t know.” Billie met her gaze, and for a heartbeat, everything inside of her stilled. “I don’t let go.”
The room fell silent. It was the kind of silence that held weight, as though the world had narrowed to Debra’s living room and nothing else mattered.
Debra set her cup down on the table, her fingers lingering on the rim. “You look like you’re trying very hard not to say something.”
Billie swallowed. She was about to enter fight or flight mode, and the latter was likely going to win. But as she looked up at Debra, everything within her relaxed and settled. Debra wasn’t someone to be avoided. God, she was someone to be celebrated. “I am.”
“Then please, just say it.” Debra’s voice cracked. “You’ve already rejected me once before, Billie. Whatever it is that’s on your mind, I’m sure I can handle it.”
The words clawed their way up Billie’s throat before she could stop them. “When I’m with you, you knock me off kilter.”
Debra’s eyes widened with surprise as a hint of tenderness crossed her face. “Billie…”
Billie didn’t move. She was afraid that if she did, the spell would break. She wanted to apologise, to retreat behind professionalism again, but she struggled to care about rules anymore. She struggled to function whether she was with or without Debra.
Debra reached out and brushed her hand against Billie’s, where it rested on her knee. The touch was light, but it unravelled every last thread of Billie’s composure.
She looked down at their hands, then back up into Debra’s eyes. The air between them had definitely shifted, but it was a pleasant shift. A shift Billie hadn’t seen coming as she whispered, “I shouldn’t.”
“I know.” Still, Debra didn’t pull away. “I don’t know what you’ve been through, but I understand.”
Billie leaned in, slow and cautious, giving Debra every chance to stop her, but Debra didn’t. She closed the last inch herself, lighting Billie up with a hope she hadn’t encountered in almost ten years.
The kiss was gentle and uncertain at first; nothing about it resembled the dominance Billie usually wielded. No, this was something far more enthralling than any kind of power Billie could assert. It was soft, it was human, fuck…it was real.
Debra’s lips were warm against hers, tasting strongly of coffee and courage. Billie’s hand found the side of her face, her thumb tracing the edge of her jaw, and Debra’s breath caught with a sound that went straight through Billie and penetrated the deepest depths of her.
When they finally drew back, neither of them said a word.
Fuck, Billie didn’t know what to do with herself.
It had been so long since she’d leaned into a moment like that, and now she was raw and broken open.
In all honesty, she wanted to dive back in and get lost in this woman…
never resurfacing to face her old life again.
She touched her forehead to Debra’s, her eyes closing as her pulse pounded in her ears. “I don’t do this,” she murmured. “This isn’t who I am anymore.”
“I know,” Debra whispered, the gentlest smile gracing those beautiful, soft lips. “And that’s why it matters to me.”
Billie let out a slow, shaky breath. She didn’t know what came next, but she knew that she didn’t want to leave the confines of Debra’s safe, trusting home yet. Not tonight. Shit, maybe not at all.
“I don’t know why or how you came into my life, but right now…I just want to be here in the calm.”
Debra dragged Billie’s bottom lip between her teeth and released it slowly, smiling as she drew back. “I’m not going to kick you out. Trust me on that one.”
The hours had slipped by without Billie noticing. One moment, the flat had been full of late afternoon light, and now the room had softened into a cosy evening glow. But Billie didn’t do cosy evening glows. Not with other women, anyway. It felt too intimate, too…revealing.
Still, she remained on the couch with a glass of whiskey resting between her fingers. Debra had insisted she open the good bottle. The single malt she’d been ‘saving for an occasion.’ Apparently, this counted as one.
She glanced over at Debra, where she was curled up on the opposite end of the couch with a blanket over her knees.
The way she rested there, staring at the candle flickering on the coffee table, spoke of comfort.
She looked down into her glass and swallowed.
Billie had never been in another person’s space that made relaxation feel like a possibility, but Debra made it too easy.
“You’re very quiet.” Debra’s soft voice pierced the silence.
Billie lifted her gaze. How could Debra possibly know Billie’s levels of quiet? They didn’t know anything about one another. Not that deeply, anyway. “Am I?”
“Mmhmm.” Debra smiled as she reached for her glass of wine. “You don’t have to think so hard, you know. You can just be here.”
God, Billie wished she could do something that seemed so simple to most people. “I don’t think I know how to just be.”
“That’s okay. You can practice here.”
Emotion welled in Billie’s throat. Another thing Debra had mastered in the short time they’d known one another. How to make Billie feel. How to draw something so rare from her. She offered comfort without ever reaching, and it was the most disarming thing Billie had encountered in years.
She sipped her whiskey, holding onto the burn as it worked its way down her throat. She would take anything she recognised right now.
Her phone started to vibrate on the coffee table, but Billie let it ring off. It would be Nina, it often was, but Billie wasn’t engaging in any sort of conversation with her this evening. She had enough going through her mind without adding Nina into the mix.
Debra tilted her head. “You’re not going to answer?”
“It can wait.” Billie lifted a shoulder. “It won’t be anything pressing.”
“But it could be.”
“It’s Nina. It never is.”
Debra lifted a brow. “Your assistant?”
“Yes.” Billie reached forward and turned her phone over so it was face down. “She hasn’t quite mastered the concept of boundaries.”
“Maybe she just wants to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
Billie felt Debra’s eyes on her. “Are you?”
The question was simple, but it landed like a full-blown strike.
Billie lifted her glass, this time pretending to study the amber liquid sloshing around in it.