Chapter 8 #2
I grinned, loving that even though things obviously weren’t back to normal, it still felt like us.
The girls giggled, and she looked over at them. “I don’t know, it looks like you’re doing a pretty good job to me.”
“What?” I asked, the comment seemingly coming out of nowhere.
“You said you’re still learning the ropes.”
I moved closer to her, so I stood only a foot away, and her eyes widened slightly.
I hadn’t meant to invade her personal space, I just didn’t want the girls to overhear what I was going to say.
I did notice how her cheeks flushed and her pupils dilated slightly.
I also noticed how she still smelled like vanilla and flowers and how my pulse rate quickened just being near her.
“I didn’t know they existed a week ago,” I explained quietly.
Her brow furrowed. “What?”
I told her the entire story: the email, Jasmine, Australia, Maureen, San Antonio, all of it, right up until Maddox was dropping them off and we were standing in the kitchen.
“Holy shit,” she breathed.
“Yep.”
“So what about the Navy? Are you on leave or…?”
Right. I hadn’t told her that. “I’m out. I retired. I will say the timing for all this couldn’t have been better. I had already sold my house and was moving in a week, so everything was packed and ready to go.”
“Moving? Where to?”
“London.”
Her breath hitched. “You’re moving overseas?”
“I was. I’m not anymore, not with the girls.”
Seeing her response to my move overseas—after she hadn’t even seen me for twenty years—did something to me. It made me feel things I knew I had no right to feel. Hell, seeing her again after twenty years made me feel things I had no right to feel.
“Was it for work? Did you have a job lined up?”
“No. I mean, yes, I had a job lined up, but that’s not why I was moving. I’ve been doing long distance for a few years so.”
“Long distance?” Her brow furrowed. “Oh, a girlfriend.”
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
I couldn’t be sure, but I could have sworn that I saw a flash of something in her eyes. Disappointment. Jealousy.
“And how does Long Distance feel about you not moving over?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t told her.”
Her eyes widened. “You haven’t told her?”
“She’s unavailable.”
“Unavailable.”
Fuck. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that Genesis was shooting SAS or any reality TV show in case they guessed which one she was on.
She’d signed a non-disclosure and could get in a lot of trouble if her name leaked before it was announced.
But I knew if Billie kept asking, I would end up telling her.
She’d always been able to get information out of me.
“She’s working.”
“Working?” Billie repeated, then pressed on. “Is she in the military?”
“She was, but she’s not anymore.”
“Sooo, what is she like a spy or something?”
“No.” I couldn’t help but smile at where Billie’s mind went. “I’m not dating a spy.”
“What-is-her-job?” She said each word separately and slowly.
“She’s a model.”
“So she’s shooting something.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t.”
“You can’t call her?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“She doesn’t have access to her phone.” As soon as I said it, I knew I’d said too much.
Billie stared at me, and I could see the wheels in her pretty head turning. The puzzle pieces were all flying around as she tried to solve the mystery. I knew I was in trouble when she set her Capri Sun down, her jaw dropped, and she sank back against the counter. “No.”
“No, what?” I questioned.
“You’re not…” She shook her head, looking at me like I had just grown two more heads myself.
“Not what?”
“You’re not dating Genesis Milan?”
Milan was her middle name, it was where her parents conceived her, which I always thought was TMI. She used it as her professional name.
“How the fuck did you—” I cut myself off and lowered my voice, hoping the twins didn’t overhear me cursing. “How do you know her? How did you know it was her?”
“London. Military. Model,” she listed off as it was obvious. “Come on, how many people fit that criteria? Is she shooting SAS?”
I used to think Billie Bliss could read my mind, now this was proof she could.
“I can’t say—”
“She is, isn’t she?”
“Billie, stop.” I couldn’t believe that she’d not only figured out who Genesis was, she’d figured out what she was filming. I had guys I in my sqad who had no clue who I was seeing. “How do you know who she is?”
“She’s not just a model, she’s an influencer. She has a podcast.”
“A podcast?”
Shit. I forgot she’d started a podcast with two of her friends. It was about reality television. I didn’t watch reality television, so I hadn’t listened to it.
“She has five million Instagram followers,” she continued. “Oh, and she’s the brand ambassador for my favorite athleisurewear.”
“Oh, right.” I knew she’d signed a big fitness brand deal she was excited about two years ago and I’d seen her on billboards.
“Holy shit.” A slow smile spread across her face, but then I saw there was sadness behind it. “You’re G.I. Joe.”
“I’m what?” I asked, not really paying attention to what she was saying.
I was too distracted by the look behind her eyes.
I never liked seeing Billie sad. In fact, I forgot just how much I disliked seeing Billie sad.
It felt like someone just kneed me in the balls.
In that moment, I would do anything to make that sadness go away.
“You’re her mysterious American military boyfriend. You have your own segment on the podcast. “How’s it Go with GI Joe?” Listeners and the other cohosts check in to see how it’s going with you two.”
It finally clicked what Billie was saying. “Wait, she talks about me?”
“Wow.” She smiled and took a drink of her Capri Sun, but I could tell the subject bothered her. A lot. She didn’t like me dating Genesis. “Okay, Boomer. You really don’t know what’s going on online, do you?”
“I know enough.”
Billie lifted her hand and started counting on her fingers. “You had no idea how many followers your girlfriend has, that she has a podcast, or that she has a segment on it about you.” She pointed her finger at me, stabbing me in the chest.
I covered her hand with mine and took a step closer to her. “I know that you don’t have any social media, and in all the pictures of you that your sisters post, your face is obscured.”
Her lips parted, and she sucked in a sharp breath, but she didn’t respond, just stared up into my eyes. Her hand flattened against my chest, and I held it tight.
I could feel my heart pounding wildly beneath her palm that was now spread out, I knew she could feel it, too. I felt myself leaning closer to her. “Billie, I—”
The doorbell rang, and both girls jumped up. “Pizza’s here!”
Billie jerked her hand away and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Pizza’s here.”
She stepped around me, and I stood in the kitchen asking myself what the fuck just happened. What was I going to say? What was I going to do? Was I going to apologize? Declare my love for her? Kiss her? Or D. All of the above.
I was so exhausted, and sleep deprived I couldn’t trust myself right now. I needed to eat, get the girls to bed, and go to bed. Alone.
Billie walked back in, a twin on each side, wearing a smile that cracked the walls that had been built up around my heart for so long I forgot they were there, and sing-songed, “Dinner.”
She was still everything, twenty years did nothing to dull her effect on me or build up my immunity. In fact, it might be even worse. I was so fucked.