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So fucking much for keeping his distance and maintaining his cool.
Billy could not believe how bad he’d crossed the line with Shay.
From the moment he’d seen the note from her on his kitchen counter this morning, pot of coffee ready and waiting and fragrant in the air, his head had been a little fucked.
As if it wasn’t enough that she was funny and cool and interesting, and that she somehow made him feel safe enough to say shit he normally wouldn’t, and that he’d seen her naked and couldn’t stop remembering how gorgeous she was—nope, couldn’t forget that. The coffee and that damn note made him realize something he’d long known but never really dwelt on before.
He was really fucking lonely.
When you’d spent your entire adult life living in close quarters with a bunch of other men in your unit, so close in friendship and purpose that you thought of one another as brothers, getting out of the military and living alone was an unexpectedly devastating blow.
And here Billy had thought it would be nice to have some privacy and quiet, to not have to listen to his asshole brothers snore and bitch and Skype with their loved ones back home. It was possible he’d never been more wrong.
So coming home to dinner and people and conversation, not to mention how enthusiastic and passionate Shayna had been in talking about her job…it all made him feel good in a way he hadn’t in so long. So long that it’d fucked with his head.
Clearly.
For just a split second, he’d let himself imagine that that could be his life. And he’d said and done things he never should’ve allowed.
Which was why he didn’t step foot out of his room the rest of the night until he heard her go to bed. And then he waited another fifteen minutes just to be sure.
He’d never really noticed before how quietly the stone treads allowed him to move down the steps, but he was glad for it as he made for the kitchen to clean up from dinner.
Downstairs, he hit the lights for the kitchen and stopped short.
Everything was clean. The dishes that had been in the sink and on the counter were gone. The counter and stove top had been scrubbed down. The dishwasher had been run. As if the whole dinner had never happened.
Billy was torn between gratitude that she’d taken care of his space just as he would, and…something that felt a whole lot like regret that there was nothing left to remind him how nice their evening had been. Until he’d gone and ruined it.
And he had ruined it.
Because, Christ, he could still picture her pressed up against the living room wall. Her hair mussed from his hands, her lips red from the hunger of his kisses, a flush high in her cheeks, and a lust-drunk softness to the cast of her eyes when she’d offered herself to him.
He wasn’t sure how the hell he’d pulled himself away.
He wasn’t sure how he’d ever forget the way she’d looked, the sound of her moan, or that she’d wanted him.
And he also wasn’t sure how she was going to forgive him—first for taking advantage, and second for walking away. Both had been dickish in their own way. He just hoped he hadn’t gone and made her feel uncomfortable living here.
It was one big fucking mess of his own making. And if Ryan ever found out about any of it, he’d have Billy’s head. And Billy wouldn’t blame him.
He scrubbed his hands through his hair and smacked off the lights. His body felt almost heavy as he hit the upstairs hallway.
A high-pitched noise caught his ear.
Billy froze and cocked his head.
There it was again. Was that…crying? Oh, Jesus, had he made her cry?
His gaze swung to Shayna’s door.
He heard it again. Prickles ran down his spine. God, he had.
Frowning at her door, he went closer. And closer. Until he was standing right outside of it, his fist poised to knock.
Which was close enough to know that it wasn’t crying, it was moaning. And it wasn’t Shayna. He was hearing something…something she was watching.
Something with rhythmic moans and a man’s rough, commanding voice.
