Chapter 10
THIS IS A DISASTER.
BILLIE
What. The. Fuck.
For a moment, my body lights up at the knowledge we’ve somehow found one another, but it doesn’t last long because how is this possible? How is he here? Why is he here?
And what right does Peter have to look this good when I’m covered in mud and who knows what else?
This is a nightmare. It must be. Shit like this doesn’t happen to people in real life, right?
That part of my life, the part I choose to live in Halifax, so I don’t have to answer to anyone in our tiny, curious town, is supposed to stay there. It’s why I don’t hook up with locals. I don’t want to have to talk about my love life. Not that it exists, anyway.
“Ummm, what?” My best friend’s whisper-yell yanks me out of my spiraling thoughts. Neve’s head swings from me to Peter, landing back on me with wide eyes. “What the hell? How do you know Darcy? And how do you know his first name is Peter?”
“Yeah, I’m so confused. Also, Elizabeth? Billie, I had no idea that was your—” Leo attempts to comment on my first name, but he’s not the only one trying to process the connection here.
“Billie?” comes the loud voice again. Peter steps further into the room, face scrunched in confusion. Rightly so. Me? I can’t move. I’ve stopped breathing. The room is spinning. “As in Billie, the person responsible for rebuilding my house, Billie?”
“Yeah, man. I told you she’d be here to—” Leo tries again, but the poor guy can’t get a full thought out.
“Beth, help me out here, darling.” Peter steps closer, and I officially become light-headed. “What is my best friend talking about?”
Best friend.
Oh my gosh.
He’s Leo’s best friend. Neve is my best friend. Our best friends are dating. Not dating, they’re, like, madly, stupidly in love with each other.
“I repeat: ummm what?” Neve practically shouts this time. “Beth? Darling? You two have so much explaining to do.” I worry her eyes might pop out of her head with how big they are right now.
Damn it. I need a minute. I need to process.
“Can I at least get cleaned up first?” I plead with my friend, and her calmer half seems to understand my request.
Leo takes Neve’s hand, bringing her attention to him.
“Come on, babe. Let’s give them a moment.
” I’m ready to proclaim my love for Leo when he speaks again.
“But then you’re both gonna get clear on what the story is.
” He points a finger at Peter, who doesn’t even notice because he hasn’t taken his eyes off me.
The moment the door clicks shut and we’re alone, he lunges for me. Half of me hopes he kisses me silly, while the other wishes he would leave, too, so I can make sense of this mess.
He doesn’t do either. Instead, he takes my face in both hands, tenderly swiping his thumb on what I’m sure is a smear of dirt.
“What is going on?” His words are as gentle as his touch.
“How are you here?” His tone is filled with awe, and not accusation, like I think I was expecting.
He pulls my face into his chest and wraps his arms around me, clearly not giving a damn about the mud messing up his clothes.
I don’t embrace him back. My arms are too heavy for me to move anyway.
“Take a breath for me, Beth.” And I do. I take a full inhale for the first time since we locked eyes and allow myself to simply be hugged by this man I didn’t think I’d ever see again. This man I tried not to miss over these last several weeks. I failed miserably.
I don’t understand how this is possible.
“Neither do I,” he whispers into my hair in response to my thinking out loud. “You have no idea how good it is to see you.”
I push away from him, my entire body rejecting the idea of someone being happy to see me.
Maybe I’m being overly sensitive about the whole thing, but between my relationship with my mom not improving, despite my efforts, and my dad’s wife reminding me constantly we are not actually family, it’s not easy to believe his words.
The last time I was with my mom and Gail—separately, of course, because they hate each other—was Mother’s Day, and both of them commented on my mood swings, how tired I looked, and that I wasn’t even paying attention to them.
As if I had any capacity to control those things.
As if Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder is something I can turn on and off at will.
I’ve been hearing it all for years. Not just from them, but from colleagues, my father, and partners. People are happy to see me until they realize I’m not all sunshine and rainbows.
His throat works on a swallow as he watches me carefully, but he doesn’t attempt to touch me again.
“What are we going to tell them?” My voice is low but firm.
Peter rubs his forehead, and I hate that I notice how his hair is longer now. Long enough to not only fall over his forehead, but over his eyes, too.
“The truth, obviously.”
A shocked laugh escapes me then, and it gives me the jolt I need to move my body.
“Yeah, Neve? Leo? Turns out the two of us have not only met, but fucked each other’s brains out one sunny spring weekend in Halifax.
Surprise!” My mocking tone isn’t well-received, based on the bored look on Peter’s face.
“Or,” he starts, “we tell them we met without giving each other our last names or any other identifying piece of information because we didn’t think we’d ever see each other again.
We tell them we had an incredible weekend together, and it obviously wasn’t supposed to end there, because here we are.
Obviously, this was meant to happen, Beth.
” His optimism grates on my nerves, which is weird, because I’m normally the optimistic one.
Peter manages to put even my normally sunshiny attitude to shame, though.
“Don’t call me that,” I hiss at him. “Literally no one calls me Beth. It’s Billie, okay?
” I pinch the bridge of my nose as he remains quiet.
“And stop saying obviously. This is not some cute twist of fate, Peter. Neve probably wants to kill me, and rightly so. I’m about to tell her I slept with her client.
Our client. Multiple times. This is a disaster. ”
My tone seems to do nothing to deter him.
“I disagree,” he says calmly. “And it’s Darcy, if we’re gonna get technical about what people normally call us.
But I am partial to you calling me Peter, so please don’t stop.
And Neve is currently quite in love with her coworker, which I believe was a big no-no for her before she met Leo, so I don’t see how this is a problem.
” He’s leaning far too casually against a closet.
I can’t look at him, so I turn and busy myself with the faucet and begin to wash my hands and forearms.
“This is so not the same thing. Not even close. We practically had a one-night stand. Those two are, like, soulmates or some shit. They’re made for each other.” Before I can continue, the heat of his body is at my back, and he’s reaching around me with a towel in his hand.
“Here, use this to clean yourself off. I have another dry one here.” He steps back quickly, and for a reason I do not feel like exploring right now, that bothers me. “I’ll bring you some fresh clothes. You’re welcome to use my bathroom, if you’d prefer.”
“No. I mean, no, thanks. This is fine. And there’s no need to get me clothes. I’m not going to stay.” Not that I had fully thought this through, but it’s probably for the best I leave anyway. I focus on my task, wiping chunks of mud off my skin.
Peter sighs. “It wasn’t a one-night stand. It was two days and three nights I haven’t stopped thinking about since the moment I last saw you.”
He doesn’t say anything else, but I hear the soft click of the door, and I feel the loss of his presence as soon as he’s gone. I force myself to take several deep breaths, working through the shock of seeing him. Here. Like this.
I guess we’re going to be permanent fixtures in one another’s lives since our closest friends are a couple.
Ugh. I never would have slept with him if I’d known.
I wouldn’t even have allowed myself to have a single meal with him.
This could have been a funny little story of how we met weeks ago, but now it’s… awkward.
Do I regret that weekend? If I’m honest with myself, the answer is no. The sex was hotter than hot, and I’m not sure I’ve ever felt as relaxed as I did then. I guess orgasms, reading, and naps will do that.
Too bad it’s never happening again.
None of it.