Page 70 of Silver Player

“What time is it?” he mumbles, not making any effort to rouse.

“Time to wake up. Need to sell the books.”

His eyes flip open, and his head rolls on the pillow. His pupils dance around the room, taking in my small space and the dull light coming through the blinds. It must be gloomy outside. With a hand scrubbing down his face, he sits up next to me and then looks at me.

His hair sticks up a bit. His scruff a day fuller. His lips roll, and I wonder if he’s worried about morning breath. I am. Then he brushes his lips over my covered shoulder and twists to the opposite side of my bed.

Huh.

Not exactly a heartwarming greeting for what we did last night, but I remind myself—casual. I assume this is how it goes. He grabs his pants from the floor while I stand. I need to pee. I need a shower, but something stops me from leaving the room as he hops once, tugging his pants up his legs and then turns in my direction as he buttons them closed. I don’t know why I’m watching him. I don’t know why my heart is clenching and my stomach wobbling and my eyes threaten to tear.

Then he looks up at me, like he’s looking through me, and my mind recalls his confusion a moment ago. He’s wondering what he’s doing here. Perhaps he’s wondering what we did, and why, and can’t believe he did it with me.

I can’t believe I told him about the breast reduction or that I’d once been fat.

“Is this how it usually goes?” I begin, shutting off the butterflies in my belly at the sight of him tugging on his T-shirt. I didn’t explore his skin near enough last night, and now it’s over. This can’t become a thing. We can’t be using each other to right our spirit when Sadie throws us for a loop.

“Meaning?” he asks, a little bite to his retort.

“Sneaking out at noon. Makes it rather obvious, though.”

“What’s obvious?” His hands slip into his pants, straightening his pockets and then he pulls them out to swipe through his hair. Good lawd, it’s a sin how good he looks in the morning, all messed up like he spent the night between my thighs, and I…

Goodness. My hand floats up to my throat, and I clear it.

“I mean, with your…friends…I don’t suppose noon is…unless you have nooners… and…” Billy’s staring at me, his mouth agape with his hands on his hips. My voice drifts. I don’t even know what I’m saying or why I’m speaking. I need to get dressed and get downstairs.

“Just what do you think happened here last night?” He nods toward the bed.

“We had sex. No big deal, right?” I shrug, but my heart crashes within my chest as I don’t feel half as cavalier as I’m trying to sound.

“Nooners,” he repeats with an irritated snort like the crack of a whip. He bitterly chuckles.

“Yeah, like afternoon delight,” I clarify. Maybe that’s when he sleeps with others. Before he goes to work, before he comes to see Sadie, before he has dinner with us and hangs out and takes her bowling and watches movies and…

His fingers clench at his sides as he stands to his full height.

“What happened here was not my reputation,” he says quietly.

I stare at him, but he doesn’t look up at me.

“You know, Roxie. You can be a real piece of work sometimes.” He shakes his head. “Not that it matters, but last night, you ruined me for all others.” The deepness of his voice along with the sharp tone is almost a slap of awakening.

“May,” he emphasizes, reminding me what he told me about his recent sexual history. “One night with the wrong woman. And you think I’m having nooners, afternoon delights, and any other list of nefarious acts with random women.”

“Nefarious,” I snort.

“Yeah, even the dumbass pub owner knows a big word or two.” He sighs. “Why can’t you let it go?” He scrubs up his chin and holds his jaw.

“You’re breaking me here, Roxie.” He pauses again. “But as for last night, thanks for clarifying. Lesson learned.”

He tugs at the blankets fallen from his side of the bed, poorly straightening them in his anger and then stalks past me.

I slowly spin as my bedroom door closes, and I hear him greet Sadie in the hallway, his voice tight as he attempts to be chipper. “Hey.” His irritation is poorly contained while I’m left wondering where I went wrong. I’m trying to play it casual like him.

I ruined him for all others. I’m breaking him. He must be wrong. He’s breaking me as I watch him walk away.

Then I reflect on what he’s said. May. One night. Wrong woman.