Page 41 of Silver Player

“Aunt Roxie?” The tender concern in Sadie’s voice rouses me from dozing on the couch. After Billy fell back to sleep, which happened rather quickly and was evident from his light snoring, I escaped my bedroom for the bathroom. I looked awful. Pale face. Bright red lips. Eyes too wide. Brushing my teeth made me feel only minimally better, and I changed into a longish T-shirt nightshirt. Pulling the afghan on the couch over my legs, I rested my head on the back cushions and promptly fell into a body-draining nap. I’d been thinking about Billy and losing Sadie and wishful dreaming we could somehow be together when Sadie roused me.

My lids blink in disorientation, and then I remember why I’m on the couch. Billy’s in my bedroom.

“Sadie,” I whisper, my voice still scratchy.

“Are you okay?” She helps herself to sit next to me on the cushions.

“Yeah, baby girl. I’m just not feeling well.”

“You drank too much,” she admonishes, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“How do you know that?” I wonder, although she knew I was going to the party.

“Billy helped you in the door.” It’s strange to hear her call him Billy, but she’s not comfortable calling him her dad yet. She pauses for another moment, and my eyes close. The pressure in my head feels like a clamp. “Are you a couple now?”

“He…I…No, baby. We aren’t together.” Nothing happened. Literally. He rejected me. Is he even still here? I didn’t hear him leave. “He only spent the night.”

“I know what that means, you know.” She giggles, throwing herself back against the cushions.

“It means he spent the night. He slept here and nothing else.” Although I’m still puzzled why this happened. Why did he stay after rejecting me? Then again, I hate to think what might have happened had he started kissing me. Oh God, I internally groan and cover my forehead with a shaky palm.

“You know, it’d be okay to be a couple with him. Then I could be with both of you.”

Uh-huh. “Oh, sweetheart. We aren’t going to be separated, no matter what.” I reach for her hand and pull it to my chest. “I love you forever.” Tears well in my eyes. I’m tired. I’m hungover. And I don’t want to think about losing her.

“Hey,” Billy interjects quietly from the hallway. He leans against the wall with his hands slipped into his front pockets. He’s wearing only a T-shirt, having removed his Oxford at some point.

“What time is it?” I ask, repeating his question to me earlier.

“It’s seven,” Sadie answers, surprising me that she’s awake so early on a Sunday.

“I guess I should get going,” Billy says without moving away from the wall.

“Is everything cleaned up outside?” I’m not intending to be snarky. I’m just curious. If he stayed with me for the remainder of the night, who took care of the party?

“Yeah, it’s covered. But I’m gonna owe some favors.” He removes a hand from his jeans and scrubs his throat, which scratches with the sound of his thicker stubble. He still looks delicious, standing sleepy and groggy in my hallway, and I hate how I notice this about him. “So I should probably…’’ He points over his shoulder with this thumb.

“Or you could stay for breakfast,” Sadie offers.

“Sadie,” I hush-whisper. The last thing Billy wants to do is spend the morning with us.

“How do you feel about pancakes?” Billy asks.

Oh God, I couldn’t stomach pancakes, and I groan in response.

“Maybe eggs for Aunt Roxie. Do you know how to cook?” Sadie asks with a teasing voice. I notice she’s forgiven him for not calling and missing out the other night. I also realize we’ve never been to Billy’s house, and I wonder why. Well, Sadie hasn’t. I shouldn’t include myself in the invitation. My heart weighs heavy again when I consider Sadie may someday be at his house, and I’m the one who will need an invitation to see her.

“You okay, Aunt Roxie? You don’t look so good.”

“My boots are outside. Want me to grab them for you?” Billy teases. I smirk back at him but wince with the pain to my head. He chuckles, and then adds, “Breakfast is my specialty.”

“I bet it is,” I mumble to myself while Sadie hops off the couch to lead Billy to the kitchen. Making breakfast together is our thing, but I can see where Sadie needs to get used to doing it with someone else.

“Thanks for letting me sleep,” Billy says, his hands now on the corner of the wall while his head rests against it. His slow grin does funny things to me, but maybe that’s the residue of vomiting.

I wave a hand, dismissing him, and shrug.

“You didn’t sleep okay? You moved out here.” He nods toward the blanket covering my legs. I’m suddenly aware how short the nightshirt is underneath the blanket and how revealing it would be to stand before him.