Page 45 of Silver Player

The brakes on this moment screech to a halt.

“Because you’ve kissed a lot of women.” It’s more a reminder to myself of his history than a question asking for an answer.

“That I have,” he teases, but the words are like a slap of reality. My hands push at his shoulders, and he has the decency to step back, giving us some space. Shock fills his face. “I didn’t mean—”

“You don’t need to explain,” I snap. He’s had a lot of practice to perfect his craft while I’m relatively inexperienced compared to his done-it list, and compared to my first attempt, this goes down as the second worst seduction.

Billy scrubs a hand up his throat like he does and pauses under his chin.

“You still think I’m a total manwhore, don’t you?”

“Well, you just admitted it,” I say. We stand in a very precarious position, further justifying my thoughts, and not for the first time do I realize the real Billy Harrington and the fantasy of him are two different things.

“You know what, Roxie? You’re a piece of work,” he huffs, slapping a hand on his thigh and then turning for the door. He throws his hands up next. “I don’t know why I try with you.”

He takes two steps and spins back to me. “And for the record. It’s not that I’m not attracted to you, Roxanne. I think you’re fucking stunning and worthy of wall sex, but when you open that mouth…I just…dammit...I just can’t…”

Then he actually turns away and leaves me stumped for words.

17

Cat got her tongue

[Billy]

I cannot take her tongue, I think as I exit the back door of her store and return to the pub. I mean, I took her tongue and those lips. I want a few other body parts of hers, too, because the feel of her under my hands from the other night won’t leave my damn head. I didn’t take advantage of her. Didn’t grope a feel or experiment, but just having my hand on her hip and then slipping it forward to wrap my arm over her middle, something clicked inside me. I held her to my chest, possessively holding her as if I didn’t want to let her go, couldn’t let her go.

I could love you, Billy Harrington, and that would be the worst thing I could do.

That sharp tongue of hers—so help me God—I meant what I said. I don’t know why I try. I’m busting my balls to get to know Sadie and learn about Roxie at the same time, and I tried to do the right thing the other night by being a gentleman and not kissing her when all I wanted was to ravish that willing mouth. The same mouth that spewed on my boots and calls me a manwhore. Then I held her all night, although honestly, that wasn’t a conscious choice. I told myself I’d only lie down next to her and keep her on her side, so she didn’t vomit in her sleep, but as my arm wrapped over her and her fingers unconsciously brushed my arm, I was too comfortable. More comfortable than I’d been in a long time. Click-click, like the turn of a lock.

I don’t really cuddle. I’m not opposed to it, but I haven’t held someone other than my ex-wife. It felt awkward after random sex. Do I hold her all night when I don’t want to? Or do I hold her for a few minutes? But for how long? I was like Billy Crystal in that movie When Harry met Sally. How long was too long?

With Roxanne, it ended up being all night, and it didn’t feel long enough. Then she let me crawl back into her bed, but when I reached for her, she was gone. It was a strange feeling. The emptiness. I’m the one who always leaves. I’ll never allow myself to be left again. I’ll always be the first to exit, but I wasn’t in a rush that night, or in the early morning, or even later when Sadie asked me to stay for breakfast. I was relieved she asked as I didn’t want to beg to hang out, but I was close. Too close. I had to cut out of there when I started envisioning myself being there all day.

Roxie’s been so busy this week she’s hardly had time for Sadie, let alone me, and I didn’t like the feeling—the feeling of her ignoring me. I didn’t intend to confront her this evening. I was going to bring over the beer, hoping it might encourage the ladies to visit the bar afterward.

Oh, who am I kidding? I was hoping Roxie would visit the pub, only it’s been another strikeout.

Her mouth. It wants mine. The way her tongue peeks out and she nibbles at the tender skin of her lower lip, she wants me. I thought I’d bring over the beer, hang out a bit, and then…

What, Billy? What did you have planned? Taking her over her desk while the ladies wait outside? Not a bad thought but also not logical. I keep fucking everything up when it comes to this woman.

After entering the Blue Ridge Microbrewery & Pub, I slip behind the bar through the hinged service entrance and let the piece slam back into place as I stalk toward the taps. I’d snap someone’s head off for that behavior with the counter, but I’m not thinking straight. I’m headed straight for a beer. I pull back the tap and give myself a hearty pour. Then I drink the entire tallboy in one swallow.

“Didn’t go as planned?” Clyde teases beside me. He saw me leave with two large growlers, and without asking, his assumption of where I went can’t be denied. I continue to swallow, not acknowledging him. When I finish with a loud ah, I answer.

“Nothing with that woman ever does.”

“What happened this time?” Clyde chuckles.

“She accused me of being a manwhore.”

Clyde’s brows rise. “Did she say that?”

“No, I said I’ve kissed lots of women and—”

Clyde’s raised paw stops me. “And somehow you think that statement convinces her otherwise?” His expression turns stern, almost reprimanding. What is the deal with Clyde and Roxanne?