Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Why are you back here again so soon?
Billie hadn’t really meant for their evening to end this way.
She wanted it to, of course she did, but wanting wasn’t always wise in her world.
She looked around Debra’s space. As with the last time she was here, it felt intimate and lived-in in a way that Billie had avoided feeling within the confines of her own home.
There was no air of tension here. No distance. Just…Debra.
The door closed behind them with a soft click, and Debra turned.
Billie reached for her at the same moment, and everything else fell away.
Their mouths met, slowly at first, then deeper when Debra’s fingers threaded through the short hair at the back of Billie’s neck.
Billie’s body reacted instantly, betraying her with the kind of need she’d spent years keeping locked behind thick, reinforced walls.
This wasn’t Billie at all. She didn’t throw herself at an attractive woman, and she certainly didn’t wind up with that same woman, two nights in a row.
“Come here.” Debra gently tugged her closer. “I’ve been dying to kiss you since we left the museum.”
Billie pressed herself to her willingly and melted into the kiss as Debra guided them to the couch.
The cushions gave way under their weight as Debra straddled her, the warmth of her thighs pressing against Billie’s hips.
Billie’s hands slipped beneath Debra’s blouse, tracing the soft dip of her waist, her muscles contracting beneath her fingertips as Billie grazed them over Debra’s stomach.
God, she was losing herself. She could feel it. That dangerous looseness, that…terrifying ease. All of this reminded her far too much of a life she no longer let herself think about. The version of herself she’d buried ten years ago.
Her breath hitched, and Debra pulled back, brushing her thumb against Billie’s cheek. “Hey,” she whispered. “You okay?”
Billie nodded, though she wasn’t sure it was convincing. “Yes.”
Debra studied her. She was far too perceptive for someone Billie had only known properly for a few days. “Why did we come here?”
Billie frowned. “I’m sorry?”
“Why not your place?”
Billie wanted to open up and explain why, but she didn’t have that kind of conversation in her. She would prefer to just enjoy Debra like this, hoping she would never ask again. She would, it was inevitable, but Billie needed more time to find an excuse.
Debra tilted her head, still perched in Billie’s lap. “I’m not accusing. I’m just…wondering.”
Billie’s mind scrambled for the first neutral answer it could reach. “Your flat was closer.”
Debra narrowed her eyes. “Billie.”
Billie felt her pulse rise. She felt her body wanting two opposite things at once. To pull Debra closer and to run away as far as possible.
Her mouth ran dry when Debra reached out and brushed her knuckles against Billie’s jaw. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. I’m not here to push you.”
But that softness and that understanding only made Billie feel guilty for not being forthcoming with the truth. Still, she wasn’t ready for understanding. She wasn’t ready to be truly seen.
So, she kissed Debra to stop her from asking again, and Debra melted instantly. She sighed into her mouth, her fingers sliding to Billie’s collar, tugging her closer as though she knew exactly what Billie needed and was willing to give it without question.
Billie kissed her deeper, not to seduce but to calm the panic clawing at her ribs. The taste of Debra, the way her lips parted eagerly…Billie let herself drown in it, just enough to silence the noise.
Debra broke the kiss with a soft hum, their noses brushing. “You don’t have to hide from me.”
“I’m not hiding,” she said, her heart clenching as that lie branded itself in her memory.
Debra smiled and held her gaze with a warmth that made Billie feel dangerously breakable. “Okay.”
Their mouths met again, slower this time.
Billie’s hand slid up Debra’s back, drawing her close enough that she could almost feel her heartbeat.
Debra’s lips grazed her skin, sending heat spiralling low in Billie’s stomach.
The couch creaked, the world blurred, and Billie let herself fall into the moment.
But a part of her whispered the warnings in her mind.
This is too fast.
You’re losing control.
You don’t get to have things like this.
And all the while, Debra kept kissing her like the world was burning around them.
Billie exhaled, shaking and undone once again.
She wasn’t ready for this, but she wanted it anyway.
Debra shifted in her lap and sighed. “You feel so far away all of a sudden.”
Billie closed her eyes and swallowed inconspicuously. “I’m here.”
“For now…”
That landed far too close to the truth.
“Don’t think, Debra. Not tonight.”
Debra brought Billie’s hand up between them and pressed her lips to the back of it. That was enough to keep Billie in the room, in the moment, and in the presence of someone who didn’t ask more of her than the present.
For now…
Billie woke slowly, drifting gently in and out of consciousness.
Before her eyes had even opened, she became aware of the warmth pressed along her back, the softness of a duvet that didn’t belong to her, and the hint of Debra’s perfume that clung to the pillow beneath her cheek.
For a second or two, she allowed herself to simply feel it.
Then that awareness fully caught up with her.
This wasn’t her bed, and it wasn’t her flat. This wasn’t the safety of distance.
Debra was lying behind her, one arm draped loosely around Billie’s waist, her breath tickling Billie’s shoulder in a peaceful rhythm that spoke of trust, safety, and the kind of comfort Billie had pushed away for so many years.
Then her heart gave a startled jolt. She had slept in Debra’s bed…for the entire night.
That realisation struck with a strange sense of dread. She hadn’t closed her eyes in another woman’s bed since her ex. She hadn’t allowed anyone that proximity, that access, or the intimacy of waking before dawn and feeling another person moulded to her body.
She inhaled carefully, hoping the breath would steady her, but it didn’t. It only offered her Debra’s scent and her clean sheets. But in the back of her mind, the faint remnants of last night lingered like a whisper on Billie’s skin.
Emotion welled in her throat. This was too much. It was too close and far too fast.
She opened her eyes and took in the bedroom for the first time.
That calm morning light spilled through pale curtains; a book faced down and open beneath a pillow on the chair in the window.
Then she caught the hoodie draped over the back of the chair and a glass from last night beside the bed.
Everything felt lived in here, a refuge wrapped in colour and character and everything Debra was.
Nothing like the immaculate, untouched spaces Billie surrounded herself with.
Nothing like the stark, carefully curated environment she retreated to every night because it let her feel alone in a way that felt manageable.
Debra murmured behind her as she shifted, tightening the arm around Billie’s waist. The movement was simple and instinctive—a sleeping woman subconsciously reaching for comfort—and yet it rattled Billie straight to her core.
She couldn’t stay here, not like this. Not in a moment that meant far more than she had prepared herself for. Because this normality was precisely the thing she’d guarded herself against. The thing that had destroyed her once, and the thing she had sworn never to let near her heart again.
Billie slid her fingers gently beneath Debra’s, easing her hand away with painstaking care. Debra’s breath shifted, but she didn’t wake. She just settled into the pillow with a sigh. Billie sat up slowly, the muscles in her shoulders stiff from the sudden tension gripping her entire body.
Her clothes were scattered near the foot of the bed, and her boots were half beneath the chair. Everything about this scene made her pulse accelerate with something very close to panic.
She dressed as quickly as she could, smoothing each button and straightening each seam, as though restoring order to her appearance might restore order within her.
She looked down at Debra. She was curled into the duvet, her hair a sleep-mussed halo, those full, tender lips parted slightly. She looked so open in that moment, so vulnerable and at peace, that it made Billie’s stomach twist.
Debra had fallen asleep trusting she’d wake with Billie still here, but Billie wasn’t built for that kind of expectation.
She wanted to stay. God, she wanted to lie back down, close her eyes, and pretend she was the kind of woman who could do this.
The person who could wake in someone’s arms and not feel the foundations of her world tilt.
But she wasn’t that woman, she likely never would be, and Debra deserved more than someone pretending to be ready for something she was still learning how to touch.
Billie slipped into the hallway and closed the bedroom door with a careful click. She didn’t leave a note. A note felt like a promise she wasn’t brave enough to make, and she refused to give Debra something half-formed or half-honest.
She paused at the front door, her hand resting on the handle.
She needed space, and she needed control.
She needed to remember who she was outside of the way Debra made her feel.
And right now, she needed to leave before the fear crawling up her spine convinced her to run further than she already was.
As she stepped out and closed the front door, Billie realised for the first time in her entire adult life that walking away felt like the wrong choice to make. Still, she did it anyway.