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Because everyone else—literally everyone from prospects to the old-timers—got turns being with Billie at her apartment and her jobs. Except for me.
I tried not to be upset about it. Of course Sugar and the others wanted the most able-bodied people on the job in case the situation went south fast, but it was killing me to stay away.
Especially because it seemed like we were about to have a moment right before Violet showed up.
But then Vi took over for the night, leaving me to sit back at the clubhouse, completely useless, getting care packages of teas and salves delivered to me by my brothers instead of Billie herself.
“What?” I barked, catching Dezi staring at me over the serving bowl sized helping of Froot Loops he was eating with, you guessed it, a serving spoon instead of a normal one.
“I don’t think the hippie honey’s medicine is working anymore,” he declared. “Maybe it’s time to try my medicine,” he suggested.
“What? Vodka?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Well, that certainly never hurts. But, no. I think the best medicine for all ills is some Grade A pussy,” he told me, nodding like he’d given me some sage wisdom.
“I can barely walk, Dezi,” I reminded him, waving down at my brace.
“So? Let her ride then.”
“I’m not interested,” I said, shrugging.
“Not interested, or interested in someone in particular?” he asked, making my head shoot over, finding his gaze on me.
Dezi could be light and carefree a lot of the time which made it easy to overlook the intensity you could find in him here and there. You would meet him and think he was too wrapped up in his own shit to notice anything else, but that underestimating of him was exactly what he wanted, I think. Because he did notice. He was watching. And what’s more than that, he was putting pieces together and coming up with pretty accurate conclusions.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, tone dismissive even if I felt my shoulders straightening.
“You know, the way I see it,” he said, leaning back and kicking his feet up on the coffee table, crossing his ankles, then lifting his serving bowl to drink the remaining milk. “The guys here, to them, Billie is family. And because she’s family, they don’t see her like outsiders see her. You, me, Cary, Brooks, the guys from the new chapter, when we first get to know her, she’s like a kick to the nuts.”
“Careful how you talk about her,” I growled. Then rushed to cover, “She’s not just family. She’s a princess.”
“Mmhmm,” he said, smirking. “But that’s what she is. And not just because she’s beautiful. And she is. But she’s good and sweet but also has no boundaries, is impulsive and unpredictable. She’s the whole package. These guys, they don’t see her like we see her. And none of us see her like you see her.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No? ‘Cause it seems to me that she stopped coming around here right around the time you got grumpier than usual. And finding convenient excuses not to be around for family get-togethers that you knew she couldn’t avoid.”
“Nothing happened with Billie and me,” I insisted. It rang true because it was. I’d never laid a hand on her. Not that way. Not unless playing with her hair at the tantric class counted. It hardly did, so it wasn’t worth mentioning.
“Maybe not,” he said, shrugging as he rested his hands on his stomach. “But you wanted it to. And I’m thinking that because you wanted her, and because she’s a princess, and because she wouldn’t take your subtle clues to back off, you went and let your mouth run off at her. Yeah,” he said, smirking at me. “I knew I got it right. The fuck’d you say to her? Must have been bad for her to avoid this place like the plague.”
I didn’t remember the exact words. But I remember being intentionally hard because I knew Billie was the kind of woman who was very determined and very sure of herself. If the rejection wasn’t strong enough, she would have just shrugged it off.
I’d never stopped to consider that I might hurt her.
She didn’t seem like she could get hurt.
“That bad, huh?” Dezi asked, clucking his tongue at me. “Sounds like you owe her an apology. Normal chicks want, what? Tacos and butt rubs? But Billie isn’t normal.”
“Tacos and butt rubs?” I asked, letting out an airy laugh.
“Yeah. Well, and mini cows.”
“Mini cows?” I asked, brows pinching.
“I don’t make the rules, man,” he said, waving an arm out. “But this is Billie. So, what? A sex swing? Nah, she’s gotta have one of those by now,” he said, talking mostly to himself.
While my mind ran wild with the idea of Billie having a sex swing. And the two of us being able to use it.
