by Laura Kaye
That made her laugh, too. “Thank you.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Now, do you want to split a dessert or are we each getting one of our own?”
“Um, I say we both get one so that we can have some of each.”
“You see, that’s a very good point.” He tapped at his temple and then pointed at her. “We’re going to make a good team, I can tell.”
“Should we go look at the desserts?” she asked, remembering the massive glass case they’d passed when they’d come in.
“Hell, yes.” Malik got her chair for her as she rose.
And then they picked out the decadent chocolate truffle cake and the cookies and cream mousse cake. Malik had debated the cheesecake, and she was really glad he hadn’t gotten it. She’d had enough reminders of Billy as it was.
Which made her wonder when she’d have the chance to tell him about her potential new situation. Or what he’d think about her living with another man.
Chapter Fifteen
“You ready to tell me what’s going on with you?” Noah asked Billy as they hit the locker room after WFC on Saturday afternoon.
“I’ll second that,” Mo said, revealing just how shitty his performance had been out there today. Had everyone noticed? For fuck’s sake.
Billy probably shouldn’t have taken the time away from his cases to come to the club. But forty-eight hours of being alone doing surveillance had left him nothing to do but sit and spin on his fucking mistakes. Naturally, he felt like a powder keg about to explode.
He’d needed the release. Even though he didn’t have the focus or discipline of mind right now to achieve it.
And it’d shown. Obviously. Sonofabitch.
Hands on his hips, Billy dropped his eyes away from Noah’s and Mo’s too-perceptive gazes, hung his head, and swallowed back a growl of frustration. “I fucked something up.”
“What kinda something?” Mo asked.
Billy glared. He didn’t want to talk about Shayna. Or how his failure to make a decision, to admit his own fucking feelings, even to himself, and to ensure she knew where she stood with him had lost him a chance at something—someone—he really wanted. Her.
But apparently, his silence was its own kind of answer, because Mo said, “With Shayna?”
He did growl then. Turning away from his friends, he raked his fingers through his hair and scrubbed his hands over his unshaven face.
Noah cleared his throat. “Do you remember that day we were in the ring and you’d tapped out but I didn’t hear you?”
Hands locked atop his head, Billy nodded. He knew what was coming next before Noah even said it.
“I just kept on pounding on you a good thirty seconds after you were out. And after that, you said to me something like, ‘I see where you are. I know it because I was there.’ And you told me that I’d better get a handle on it before it consumed me.”
“Yeah.” Billy leaned back against a locker on a resigned sigh. Advice that was a helluva lot easier to give than to take.
The younger man came closer. “Well, I’m saying it right back to you now. I see where you are, Billy. And I know what it is because I was just fucking there. And you gotta get a handle on it before it consumes you. I can see by the look in your eyes that it’s damn close already.”
How had the tables done this one-eighty in just a few months’ time? Because Billy couldn’t deny that they had.
Nor that Shayna was at the heart of it all. In ways both good and bad.
In daring to hope that she could be his, in finally letting himself want her, he’d crashed against the rocks of his survivors’ guilt and his fear that Ryan wouldn’t find him worthy because Billy didn’t fucking find himself worthy.
Shayna Curtis had made Billy want more from his life. She’d thrown light on all the dark, twisted places inside of him from which he’d been hiding. And now he was a goddamn wreck and a pressure cooker of rage and guilt and shame besides.
“He’s not wrong, is he,” Mo said, opening his locker. It came out as a statement, not a question.
“No,” Billy bit out.
“She got under your skin—”
“Goddamnit, I don’t wanna talk about Shayna,” Billy said, cutting Noah off.
“Too bad,” the Marine said, risking Billy’s ire by coming closer. All that separated them was the bench between the rows of lockers. “Because it was falling in love with Kristina that did the same damn thing to me.”
“I’m not fucking in lo—” His voice cracked on the lie.
Jesus Christ, it was a lie.
Billy braced his hands on his knees and heaved a breath.
Because he was in love with Shayna Curtis. The girl—no, the woman—who was supposed to have been off limits had stolen his fucking heart.
A big, meaty hand grasped his shoulder. “You gotta talk to someone, Billy. And you gotta talk to her.”
He forced himself into an upright position and met Mo’s dark stare. He didn’t know what to say. Not really. Not yet. So he just nodded.
“Or you could come take an art therapy class with us,” Noah said, a bit of humor playing around his mouth.
“Fuck that,” Billy managed, earning a few chuckles from the other men.
“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, Parrish,” Mo said, folding his big arms.
Noah clapped Mo on the shoulder. “You know the big guy here’s taken so many art therapy courses that he’s on a first-name basis with all the instructors and helps out like a damn teaching assistant.”
Mo’s laugh was a deep rumble. “That shit chills me out. And you do not want to meet me unchilled. That’s all I’m saying.”
Billy managed a smirk. He couldn’t imagine Moses losing his cool like he was currently doing, nor did he wish the way he was feeling on anybody else anyway. Because this out-of-control shit sucked ass.
“Text her and tell her to come to dinner with us.” Noah gave him a no-nonsense look.
Mo nodded. “Longer you put it off, the more you’re going to build it up in your mind as something big and insurmountable.”
“All right,” Billy said, even though a part of him remained hesitant. He didn’t want her to see him when he was mid-losing-his-shit, but just talking to the guys had made him feel a little better. Though his problems were clearly too big and fundamental to be fixed by a single conversation no matter how helpful it’d been.
He saw that now. Still, maybe hanging with Shayna in a big group of friendlies was the perfect way to ease into the conversation he needed to have.
Once and for fucking all.
So he sent the text and invited her out.
And then he pecked out an email to Ryan:
Hey Ryan – Need to talk to you ASAP. Let me know when you can Skype? Nothing’s wrong, so don’t worry.
Now Billy just had to figure out what to say to both of the Curtises that would give him a chance in hell of earning him a chance at what he really wanted.
A woman. A relationship. A life that was bigger than himself.
Shayna was a bundle of nerves by the time she arrived at the barbecue joint where she was meeting Billy and his WFC friends. She’d been excited and really pleased that Billy thought to invite her, not to mention glad for him that he’d taken a break from working. And she was happy to get to see his friends again because she really liked them.
But she was also nervous because, without question, her apartment search was going to come up. And she’d have to tell Billy that she was leaning towards taking Malik up on his offer.
His house had been, of course, fantastic. Not fancy. But a quintessential DC row house, spacious and well-appointed with lots of natural light in a quiet neighborhood up Wisconsin Avenue. The room that would be hers was bigger than some of the apartments she’d seen, and the basement had a roughly finished bathroom that would make a perfect darkroom.
No moldy showers, ghosts, or clowns in sight.
She found Billy’s party at the back of the
restaurant. They all had drinks but still had menus, so she wasn’t too late. “Hey, everyone.”
Mo, Noah, and Tara got up to say hello to her, and being embraced by all of them like they were old friends was really freaking nice. Just like she’d done with her parents, Shayna had isolated herself a lot these past two years.
At first, it’d been because she was hurting and, with both a broken arm and ankle, it’d been difficult getting around. And then it’d been because, if her own family and closest friend blamed her for Dylan’s death, what would mere acquaintances who knew about the accident think of Shayna?
So once she was able, she threw herself into work with a frenzy, which was what led her to realizing that the museum wasn’t where she wanted to be. Once she got the newspaper internship, she’d had to take on a second job that actually paid, and that’d left her even less time for other people.
So having friends again…well, it’d been a long time for her. And it felt damn good.
Billy was standing at his seat when she finally went to sit down next to him, and he pulled the chair out for her and gave her a smile, sending her heart into a tumble and rushing heat over her body. From the way she wanted him. Lusted after him. Loved him.
Because she did. Finally knowing that she had somewhere else to go had meant coming to terms with leaving Billy’s—and leaving Billy himself—and that was the very moment her heart had made it clear just how hard she’d fallen.
The sadness she’d been feeling the last few days hadn’t just been about the stress of the search or missing Reuben and Ziggy. It had been about missing Billy.
It’d always been about Billy. For her.
He leaned in close. “I need to talk to you after dinner. Would that be okay?”
“Uh, sure. Of course. Is everything all right?”
An array of expressions crossed his face before he finally settled on a little frown and gave a shrug. “Yeah. I mean…” He shook his head. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”
Prickles skittered across her scalp. “How are you surviving all the surveillance work?” she asked him, wondering if that was what accounted for how run down he seemed in just a few days’ time.
“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m going to be able to wrap one of the cases up pretty quickly, so that’ll help.”
“Oh, good.”
The waitress appeared and asked them if they were ready to order.
Everyone turned to her. “Go ahead,” Shayna said, flipping open her menu. “Just do me last.” Her belly was a bundle of nerves, so she struggled to figure out what she could put into it. She finally decided on the barbecued chicken and baked potato. When the waitress departed again, she asked, “Where are Dani and Sean tonight?”
“Working,” they almost all said in unison, which resulted in a round of laughter.
“They’re both kinda workaholics,” Tara said. “But I guess that comes with those particular professional territories.” She sipped at her soda. “Oh, hey. I’ve been meaning to say congratulations to you. I saw your name on a photo credit in the paper.”
Shayna smiled. “Why, thank you. That was pretty cool, wasn’t it?”
“Is that right?” Mo said, grinning at her. “I want to see it.”
“I might be able to find it online,” Shayna said, fishing her phone out of her purse.
“I got it,” Billy said. His web browser was open to the page.
Shayna did a double take. Her gaze lifted from his phone, which he passed around the table, to him. “You have my picture on your phone?”
Was she imagining the pink in his cheeks or was that just color casting off the stained-glass light fixtures? “I set a Google alert for your name so it would catch your credit lines and I wouldn’t miss any of your photos.”
Her jaw was on the floor. She knew it was. But she couldn’t pick it up.
He didn’t want to miss any of her pictures? That reached into her chest and squeezed something awful. Because it was so bittersweet. An amazingly thoughtful gesture from a man she wanted but couldn’t have.
Billy gave a little shrug, like maybe he was embarrassed. “Plus I wanted to be able to send the links to Ryan. Figured he’d want to see them.”
For a second, the reality check of him doing this for Ryan’s benefit threatened to crash her back down to earth. But somehow she stopped that kneejerk reaction, because her gut was insisting that the look in those dark eyes wasn’t about Ryan.
Not about Ryan, at all.
Then what was it about? Shayna didn’t know, and Mo’s voice interrupted her ability to think on it just then.
“This is a powerful shot, Shayna. This little boy looking up to Frederick Douglass like that. It’s really good,” Mo said.
She beamed. “Wow, thanks Mo. That means a lot to me. Oh, and guess what else?”
“What?” Billy and Mo both asked.
“This picture landed me an assignment working on a feature on Big Brothers Big Sisters of DC. The reporter is going to be interviewing bigs and littles, the littles’ parents, and alumni of the program to show how powerful its impact is. I’ll need to take shots of everyone involved and at a couple of different events. It’s my biggest assignment so far.”
Big enough that her photo editor had decided that they’d run a photo slideshow with the story online to make use of more of the pictures than could be published in the print edition. A whole slideshow of her photographs!
“I think that deserves a toast,” Mo said. “Because that sounds awesome.” Everyone raised their glasses and toasted her with a round of sodas and beers.
Shayna laughed. “You guys sure know how to make a girl feel good.”
Their food arrived, and everyone dug in. Her stomach gave a flutter because anticipating the apartment-hunting question was making her a little crazy.
And then it came.
“So, Shayna,” Noah said from the other side of her roommate, “Billy says you’ve been looking for an apartment. Find a place yet?”
The chicken and potatoes went on a loop-the-loop in her stomach. She set down her fork and took a deep breath. “Yeah. Um. It’s been kind of a nightmare, actually, but I think I’ve found a place.”
Billy’s gaze whipped to her and his expression was like she’d just kicked his puppy. Hollow and gutted.
Why was he looking at her like that?
She swallowed hard and let the rest of her news fly. “I have a colleague with a really nice three-bedroom row house in Glover Park. He went with me to see a few of the apartments and after walking a few miles in my apartment-hunting nightmare with me, he proposed that I could rent a room from him. His house is really nice. Much better than anything I’ve looked at so far.”
Now Billy’s jaw was ticking and his shoulders had gone tense. When he looked at her, his eyes were black fire. “So you’ve decided this?”
“Uh, pretty much,” she said, surprised at how upset he seemed. Which confused and annoyed her, because it wasn’t like her apartment hunting should be a surprise to him. And he hadn’t offered, had he? “I have one more showing scheduled, but I might cancel it.”
“Glover Park is a great neighborhood,” Tara said, seemingly unaware of the weirdness between Shay and Billy. “A ton of great restaurants and, depending on where you are, you might be able to hear the Naval Observatory playing the sound of colors synchronized to the nation’s master clock.”
Shayna tore her gaze away from Billy’s over-the-top intensity. “Colors?”
“Sorry,” Tara said. “The music that accompanies the raising and lowering of the flag.”
“Oh! That would be fun to get to hear,” she said with a laugh.
“When are you moving?” Tara asked.
“Um, I’m not sure yet. I have to shoot an event tomorrow at the Northeast Rec Center and I don’t know how long that’ll be. So, probably next weekend.” It wasn’t like she had a lot of stuff, but the event started at noon, which was smack in the middle of the day.
“If you nee
d any help, Shayna, just say the word,” Mo offered.
Was she imagining a strange tone to his voice? “Thanks. I will.”
It got oddly quiet around the table.
Shayna picked up her fork again and took a bite. But she could hardly taste anything around the weird feeling in her belly.
“How was fight club today?” she asked, trying to kickstart the conversation again.
Billy suddenly rose and dropped his napkin atop his half-eaten meal. “Sorry,” he said. “Just realized how late it is. I gotta get back to one of my cases or the night will be a wash.”
Shayna’s heart tripped into an aching sprint. What about the talk he’d wanted to have?
Mo and Noah traded a look before they rose to shake Billy’s hand.
“Why don’t you stay a little longer?” Mo asked, eyebrow raised.
“Gotta pay the bills,” Billy said, his tone flat and tight.
“Remember what we talked about,” Noah said in a low voice.
What was going on? She felt like there was a whole conversation happening but she couldn’t understand the words.
Finally, Billy looked to her. “You okay getting home?”
“Uh, yeah, I Ubered, but what about—”
“Another time maybe. It wasn’t anything big,” he said, and then he was gone.
Shayna felt like they’d just had a fight. Except they hadn’t. Was he really that upset about her moving out? Or was he just pissed off at her for considering a male roommate? Because she couldn’t see any other reason for all the intense weirdness that’d just transpired.
“Wow,” she said. “I’m sorry. I think my news killed dinner.”
“You don’t have nothing to apologize for, Shayna,” Mo said.
She appreciated that he said it, but she couldn’t help but feel like she’d done something wrong. And that started to piss her off. So much so that she was glad when dinner was over so she could be by herself and avoid taking her temper out on anyone else.
She was so filled with restless anger that she spent the night packing. Bags. Boxes. Whatever she could jam her stuff into, she did.
By two o’clock, she was nearly done and completely spent.
