Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EMMETT
Jack renamed the group chat: Blade Boys for Life.
Sawyer
I’m retired. How am I still a member of this group chat?
Tommy
Let’s be real. It’s not like this group chat is ever about hockey.
Archer
And even when it is, the conversation quickly descends into chaos.
Jack
Oh, just fuck off.
Archer
I rest my case.
Jack
And here I was, about to invite you all over to our place for dinner and drinks next Saturday. I’m now reconsidering my generosity.
Me
What the fuck did I do?
Jack
Only Emmett is invited.
Tommy
You actually are your stepdad.
Jack
Take that back, Tommy.
Tommy
Nope. I don’t tell lies.
Sawyer
I’m confused. Are we being invited to dinner and drinks or not?
Jack
If you all say sorry, then yes.
Archer
Can’t make it Saturday night. I’m busy banging your sister.
Jack
I’m going to rise above your comment, Archer.
Archer
That’s very mature of you. Well done.
Sawyer
If this dinner invite does in fact exist, then I’ll bring Collins and Ezra.
Tommy
I just checked with Jenna, and we are a go for next Saturday.
Archer
Emmett is very quiet …
Jack
Like out-on-a-date quiet.
Me
I’m out, but it’s not a date.
Jack
*leans forward in chair* Who are you out with?
Me
I’m alone.
Archer
I’m calling bullshit. His reply was too quick and defensive.
Tommy
He literally had to type two words. How long did you want him to take?
Jack
Shut up, Tommy.
Sawyer
What time is the dinner next Saturday?
Jack
7 p.m.
Jack
Talk to us, Emmett.
Pulling down on the bill of my cap, I check over my shoulder for signs of Billie returning from the restroom with Blake.
Jesus. Diaper changes take forever.
Me
I’m not on a date.
Archer
Where are you?
Me
Prospect Park.
Jack
Oh, that’s five minutes away from our place. I’ll come see you.
Me
No.
Every single member of the group chat begins typing at once.
Jack
Called it.
Archer
My boy took a girl to the park.
Sawyer
I once took Collins to a park. It was a date.
Tommy
Emmett, just say the word, and I’ll knock them all out for you.
Me
I’m with a friend. She just had a baby and needed to get out of the house. She didn’t have anyone to give her a ride, so I offered.
As Jack starts typing, a direct message separate to the group chat flashes on my phone screen.
Sawyer
Billie?
Me
Yeah.
Sawyer
I see the plan to stay away is going well then … good work.
Me
Things have gotten complicated since we last spoke.
Sawyer
Complicated, as in you put your dick in her?
Me
NO! Complicated, as in Scott broke his leg in an accident, and other than her mom, she doesn’t have a whole lot of people around her. So, I’m helping out.
Sawyer
Sure you are.
Me
Are you going to actually say anything constructive or just continue to goad me?
Sawyer
You need to tread REALLY fucking carefully. I remember telling Archer something similar when he started up a fuck-buddy arrangement with Darcy. However, this is a whole new level of danger. You know that, right?
The icy sensation chasing down my spine has nothing to do with the chill in the air.
Me
Just because I find her hot doesn’t mean that I’d make a move.
“Who’s hot?”
My in-game reflexes have nothing on the speed in which I lock my phone and shove it into my pocket.
Billie’s petite shadow looms over me as I remain seated on the park bench facing the duck pond and slowly close my eyes.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Who’s hot?” She repeats her question. Her voice sounds unsure, but not freaked out.
Maybe she didn’t see the rest of the message thread?
When I still don’t answer, she rounds the bench and comes to sit next to me, placing Blake back into her stroller and covering her with blankets so only her face is exposed.
Billie might not have planned to become a mother at this point in her life, but she sure as shit is a natural.
So much of her reminds me of my parents before they passed, especially the caring look in her eyes—like she’d find a way to part the oceans if that’s what it took to keep her child safe and happy.
“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” Billie clarifies, offering Blake her pacifier. “I shouldn’t have read the text, letting curiosity get the better of me.”
I reach up, adjusting my glasses, and Billie tracks the movement, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she does.
“It’s no one you know. Just someone I met on an away series.”
The lie sounds believable, and I hate that I’m being dishonest with her. The last person I want to deceive is Billie. However, in this situation, I don’t have much choice.
It’s like she’s looking through me as I finish up my sentence, her mind wandering to another place.
“I can only imagine how hard it is to move on from a marriage.” She sits back on the bench, diverting her attention to the duck pond. “It must feel like a bomb has gone off in your life.”
“Yes, and no.” My response is automatic and brutally honest, almost like my subconscious is trying to make up for the lie I just told.
Billie’s eyes dart to mine, big green irises holding me captive. “What do you mean?”
A seed of doubt blooms in the pit of my stomach.
I’m unsure of how much to divulge. Maria is still a huge part of Freya and Scott’s life, and the last thing I want to do is throw shade on my ex-wife.
At some point, it’s inevitable that we’ll cross paths, and ultimately, what goes down in a marriage should almost always die with it too.
That thought isn’t enough to stop me from sharing with Billie though, the words tumbling from me with relative ease.
“Maria’s paranoia and constant accusations over me being unfaithful drove a huge wedge into an already-failing marriage.”
Elbows braced on my knees, I clasp my hands underneath my chin and look at her.
Nothing in Billie’s expression indicates surprise. Maria was the master at masking her insecurities, carrying off a barrage of passive-aggressive comments with an easy smile, just like she did that night in Lloyd’s bar.
“Emmett.”
When Billie says my name but nothing more, I hold my breath, equal parts anxious and intrigued over what she’ll say next.
“Billie,” I counter, playfully nudging my knee against her thigh.
She chews on her thumb, the tension in her body language making me realize that there’s nothing playful about this moment.
Above the sounds of wildlife and the whistling breeze, I hear myself swallow.
Billie does the same before quietly asking, “Did … Maria ever accuse you of having a thing with me?”
Fuck.
A dismissive laugh tries to rise up my throat, but fails under the weight of reality or maybe even the truth.
“Having a thing with you?” I repeat. “No. Flirting with you the last Christmas before you left for Austin? Yes.”
Wide eyes grow even wider as she stares back at me, jaw agape. “Really?”
I nod because that’s all I’m capable of.
Billie chews on her thumb again, and like a freaking idiot, I reach up and wrap my palm around her fingers, pulling her hand away from her mouth.
I should let go, but I don’t, maintaining our connection way longer than necessary.
Her soft palm fits perfectly in my hand, reminding me of the real truth in the last message I sent to Sawyer—there’s no way I could ever make a move on Billie Quinn. It would be safer to pull the pin from a hand grenade and hold it to my chest until it detonated.
But despite all the danger signs, images of the girl I’m still holding the hand of scroll through my mind—fantasies centered around how beautiful she would look beneath me, the way I wouldn’t stop until the smile I know so well and love became a permanent feature on her face, erasing a legacy of pain inflicted by her shitty ex.
Billie’s eyes drop to where we’re still holding hands, resting on the wooden bench between us.
“Was any of what Maria said true?”
“In what sense?”
Her long, wavy hair floats in the air as a gust of wind blows through the park, a scent of nutmeg filling my senses.
“Well, I know you never cheated because that isn’t who you are.” Her words are punctuated, underlining the confidence in her statement. “If Maria thought you were unfaithful, then she really didn’t know you well at all.”
I remain quiet because I know Billie hasn’t finished speaking.
She looks up at me through dark lashes. “I’m asking if Maria was right about us flirting?”
Common sense gets the better of me, forcing me to release her hand, and I clasp mine together before messing with my fucking glasses. Again.
None of this conversation is right.
What the fuck am I doing?
“What answer do you want me to give, Billie?”
She flushes pink, tearing her eyes away from me and focusing straight ahead. “The truthful one.”
I clear my throat, determined to get a handle on the building tension between us.
“Maria interpreted our friendship as more, and she had a habit of doing that with any woman I spoke to or even looked at. You and I”—I motion between us—“we’ve always had this affinity, joking around and bouncing off each other.
My ex-wife let her paranoia see something that wasn’t there. ”
At least not until now for me.
I can’t tell if she looks disappointed or if she’s in agreement, as Billie’s face turns expressionless. So much of me wants to take her hand back in mine and embrace the comfort her touch brings. It feels like words aren’t needed when I can feel the warmth of her soft skin.
A couple more beats of nothing pass, and then she resets herself, shaking her head to rid thoughts she obviously doesn’t welcome.
“Can you drive Blake and me home now?”