Page 29

CHAPTER 29

Billie

I ’m lucky the walk home is long enough for me to get my emotions under control. I was so close to breaking Ford’s nose. The balls of that asshole. The mixed signals. The hot and cold. The everything. He’s fucking infuriating.

Half way home, I realize I dropped the bracelet my mother bought me for my graduation, which pisses me off even more. Today’s already shit.

I get to my apartment, flop onto the couch on my stomach, then try to numb my brain by watching TV. All I can think about is Ford, though. Every time he pops into my head, I swear and think up creative ways to get back at him.

I regularly check the time, reminding myself to prepare for my date tonight. I contemplated canceling, but then that would mean that Ford wins, and I’m not going to let another man dictate who I date. Especially Ford. He doesn’t get to have that kind of power over me anymore. I already have enough men in my life who think they can tell me what to do. I don’t bother changing my clothes, but I do swap out my sneakers for a pair of heels, then fix my hair before I walk out the door.

Matthew messaged me what restaurant to meet him at, and luckily, it’s not too far from where I live. When I arrive, I find him standing outside, speaking on his phone. He’s dressed similarly to how he was last weekend when I met him. Except today his suit is a nice blue that matches his eyes. When he notices me, he hangs up.

“Perfect timing.” He offers me his elbow and then guides us into the restaurant. He tells the hostess his name, and we’re led to a private area at the back. He pulls out my chair like a gentleman, and I thank him as I sit.

When he takes a seat, he orders a bottle of their finest wine. Despite not being a big wine drinker, I don’t bother to mention it as the waitress walks away.

“Did you get up too much today?” he asks, adjusting his tie. He’s attractive, but it feels like there’s something missing, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe it’s the man with the haunting, almost black eyes that I would prefer to be sitting across from me.

Fuck. Stop it. I chastise myself.

“I did, actually. I got a tattoo,” I say proudly. He scrunches up his nose before smoothing his expression. “You don’t like tattoos?”

He nervously chuckles as if he hadn’t meant to show his distaste. “Not particularly. I was raised with the belief that you don’t damage perfect skin.”

The waitress comes back with the wine, and I smile as she pours it for us. Then I take a sip of the bitter liquid.

“I was raised that it’s your body, your choice,” I reply.

“Yes, of course.” He doesn’t ask me what I got or where I got it. He actually changes the subject and then starts talking about the movie that we’ll be seeing after dinner. The meal is nice, and thankfully, the company isn’t too bad either. As the night goes on and the wine goes to my head, I stop thinking about Ford.

That is until Matthew finally asks me what tattoo I got. It pulls me straight back to the tattoo parlor. Straight back to Ford’s hands all over me. In true Ford fashion, he’s interrupting my one experience of what seems like an ordinary date. And he’s not even here.

“Sorry, what?” I ask as he offers me his hand when we stand to leave.

“You said earlier you got a tattoo, but you didn’t say what it was.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. It’s just a small heart.”

“Nice. And where on your body did you get it?” He looks me over. “I don’t see it.”

I wait until he pays for the meal, and we’re outside to tell him. “That’s because you would have to remove my clothes to see it.” He stops in his tracks.

“Remove your clothes?” he questions. I nod, smiling at the way he says it like it’s an option. “Well, that just made the night more interesting. Now I’m going to be wondering where I can find a small heart.” He winks.

The night air is cool, and we walk to the cinema, which is only a few blocks away. He pays for our tickets, and we get popcorn and chocolate to share before we head into the theater. It’s the most ordinary date, and it’s kind of nice.

The movie is a romantic comedy, and at one stage, he reaches over and clasps my hand in his.

It’s sweet. Not what I’m used to, that’s for sure.

When the movie is over, he doesn’t let go of my hand as we leave. I’m wondering if he’s going to kiss me when we get outside. Do I want him to? The few times Ford ever kissed me, I had to ask him to do it, and I hate that I’m once again comparing Matthew with him.

“Did you drive? I can walk you back to your car,” Matthew offers.

“No, I walked,” I tell him. “But I’m not far.” I point down the road, wanting to walk. It’s become a ritual lately.

“I’ll walk you, then.” I go to decline, so used to doing things independently, but I accept the offer, curious as to whether he’ll try to come upstairs. I don’t think he’s that type of guy, but who knows. And I don’t know if I’d let him up if he does ask.

He doesn’t let go of my hand as we walk to my apartment. We talk about his work, which I find fascinating in a dramatic way. I can definitely see how my cousin and brother use him for business.

When we’re only a few doors from my apartment building, he casually asks, “So, can I see you again?”

“You want a second date?” I ask, somewhat charmed. I’m obviously a good date, then.

“Yes, I do.” I smile at his words. When we reach my apartment, I try to pull my hand free, but he leans in so close our bodies are almost touching. He smells different. Feels different. Everything about him is different. And I’m not entirely sure if I want it, but I definitely want to try.

His hand releases mine to raise and touch my face, ever so gently holding me still. “A second date?” he asks again.

“I think I can arrange that,” I reply. But there’s no butterflies. I push past it because I should be focusing on someone like Matthew. He’s nice, driven, normal. He smiles as I stare up at him, then he leans down. His lips lower to mine. It’s soft and tender. I open my mouth just as he pulls back.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” he says, stepping back with a smile.

“Okay.” And I watch as he walks away. My smile falters as I realize my heart didn’t flutter when he kissed me. It’s gnawing at me, knowing I should like a guy like him, wanting to, but it feels no different than if I were hanging with a friend. But it’s more than that with Matthew, right? We get along so well.

“Remind me why I shouldn’t kill him.” A low growl comes from over my shoulder, and I gasp, turning and swinging my fist. I hit Ford straight in the nose, but he barely flinches.

“Oh fuck me! Don’t sneak up on me like that. Where the fuck did you come from?” I blurt, steadying my breathing as the adrenaline starts to recede. I go to ask him if he’s okay, but then it hits me. How long has he been here? “You’ve got to be kidding me. Ford, what the actual fuck? You can’t keep showing up like this. We’re done, remember?” I throw my hands in the air.

His jaw tics as he glares over my shoulder in the direction that Matthew went. “I think he’s the least of your concerns, wouldn’t you say? What if someone else saw you?” I ask.

“I never cared about who found out about us. You did.”

I blanch. “You can’t be serious right now. You were the one who made it clear you didn’t want anything but sex.”

“You were the one who made it clear you wanted it to be a secret,” he responds sharply.

I’m gobsmacked. I can’t keep dealing with this head fuckery. He says he doesn’t want anything more with me but then won’t leave me alone. And I can’t deny the fact that I might’ve given mixed signals of my own in the past, but what good is any kind of relationship if we can’t even have an honest conversation? It feels like trying to pull blood out of a stone.

Fuck this. Matthew is at least kind of normal.

Ford’s like a fucking phantom popping out of nowhere. A phantom I’m deeply attracted to. I internally growl. Ah, shut the fuck up.

“It’s a little too late now, wouldn’t you say?” I go to walk into the building, and he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bracelet.

My jaw drops. “My bracelet. Where was it?” I ask, reaching for it. He pulls it away from my grasp. Fury pumps in my veins. Is this all just a game to him? “Did you take it?” I accuse because I know I was wearing it at the tattoo shop.

“Did you want to fuck him?” he asks as he dangles the bracelet in front of me. I try to grab it, but he’s taller than me and easily holds it out of my reach. “Did you want to fuck him?” he repeats.

“No,” I growl, infuriated. He considers me for a moment longer before lowering the bracelet. I snatch it out of his hand. “You can leave now.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I’m shocked by the admission, and my mouth opens and closes a few times before I finally find words. “What kind of game are you playing?”

“I’m not playing any game. I’m just telling you the truth.”

“But you won’t date me? Just sex, right?”

“Is that what you want? Dating?” He squirms at the thought, and it’s clear as day that Ford has never dated anyone in his life. And while I might not be the most experienced when it comes to dating, at least I know it’s not a death sentence, the way he’s treating it as.

“I want a man who will claim me without hesitation, Ford.”

“I claim you all the time.”

“Not like that, and you know it,” I bite back.

“Yet you’re the one who wants us to remain as a secret. So you want me to what? Shower you with gifts and dates but remain in the shadows? Sounds like you’re using me , Billie, not the other way around.”

My hands shake because of how furious I am.

“Seems like you’re fine with dishing it but don’t like when you’re called out on your own shit,” he says, his gaze hard.

“Have you met you? You know exactly what it would do to our families if they found out. It might damage everything you’ve built with Eli. My brother will kill you. I’m protecting you.”

He scoffs. “I never asked for your protection, Chaos. The only thing I needed protection from, it would appear, is you. I can’t get you out of my fucking system.”

Now it’s my time to scoff. “Why, because I’m just some kind of addiction? Some kind of entertainment for you to be amused by until you find something else?”

He growls, and a cold warning tingles down my spine. “I told you that to explain why I’m not good for you. You don’t know what you’re signing up for with me.”

“Well, maybe I should’ve asked the right questions before we started anything. This is hopeless, and you need to find something else to entertain you.”

He looks like he’s about to say something, but then Ivy’s voice interrupts us. I was so wrapped up in my argument with Ford that I hadn’t even noticed her pull over to the curb and approach us.

“Damn. Shit looks tense here. Did someone die?” she asks as she looks around. “Is Hawke not with you? It’s weird when you two aren’t up each other’s asses,” she says to Ford.

I take a step back, trying to put all my effort into reining in my anger so Ivy doesn’t think too hard about why we might be out here arguing. But then the silence stretches. I don’t know why I expect Ford to say something because he doesn’t. Instead, he shoves his hands in his pockets and stalks away. Of course he just takes off.

We’re just going around in circles at this point. Aren’t we? Did he think any of that would convince me to sleep with him again? Then again, maybe he has a point about me hating that he calls me on my shit. I wanted us to be a secret because it wasn’t anything more than just sex. But as I watch him walk away, I wonder what something more with Ford might look like. But just as quickly, I think about the fallout with our families.

“What was that about?” Ivy asks, staring after him.

“Nothing.” I shake my head and turn for the door. “My brother just asked him to check up on me after the date with Matthew.”

Ivy whistles. “I’m surprised Dutton wasn’t waiting out here with a bat to check on you himself.”

When I don’t laugh, she grabs me by the arm. “Hey, is everything okay with you lately? I don’t know if I’m reading into it too much, but there seems to be some weird tension between you and Ford. Has something happened?”

I stare at my best friend. I know I can tell her anything. She’ll take it to the grave if I ask her to. I also know if I choose to remain silent, she won’t dig into my personal affairs even when she’s equipped to. Ivy’s always respected our privacy, and I’m just too tired to tell her. Too exhausted to catch her up on the last year and a half that’s turned into a fumbled mess. It just has to stop.

“No. I’m just mad at my brother. That’s all,” I say, placing my hand over hers. “But I’m sure I’ll feel better soon. When Hope’s back, let’s have a spa day.”

Ivy doesn’t seem to believe me but smiles anyway, nodding in agreement. She asks me about my date with Matthew, and I describe the very ordinary date I went on. A date that I’d been begging for as long as I can remember. And yet, in all of those hours with Matthew, my heart didn’t flutter, and my stomach didn’t drop, not until the one man I’ve sworn myself from showed up on my doorstep.

It doesn’t make any sense. I accused him of using me, but I know I’ve done the same to him. He has a right to be mad, but it doesn’t change the circumstances. Ford and I were never meant to be more, even if I want it.

Even if we hurt one another with our rejection of the other.

We’re just not meant to be together in that way.

It’s not until after I have a shower to calm down that I crawl into bed and cocoon myself in my blankets. I just want to hide from these spiraling, confusing thoughts. It feels like I don’t know left from right, right now, and it’s so fucking distracting. No matter how much I swore myself off him, I only keep thinking about him.

I stare at the bracelet on my side table and wonder if he took it so he had a reason to speak to me again. But that feels foolish. Ford isn’t the type to do something so juvenile. Then again, he bought me numerous jackets without so much as a card to let me know it was him.

My eyebrows furrow when I notice the bracelet looks different. Picking it up and inspecting it, I discover it’s not just a plain, dainty chain anymore. Attached are two charms: the tiniest little black heart and a small cat.

My heart sinks, and I want to cry.

Why is he doing this? Does his cruelty have no bounds?

I can’t keep going back and forth like this, and yet I know I’m part of the problem.

I might’ve forced his hand into wanting nothing to do with me, but deep down, I wanted him to fight for us. And then what?

Aren’t I the one being unfair since I’m not willing to take the risk and tell everyone about us?

Hadn’t he been the honest one all along while I pushed and demanded more than he was able to give me and more than I was willing to actually accept?

I close my eyes and release the bracelet back onto the side table, refusing to cry. I feel like all the fight has been sucked out of me. I don’t even know what I want anymore. It’s unreasonable to blame Ford when I had as much a part to play, but it’s so much easier pointing the finger at him than myself.

I’m coming to learn that falling for someone isn’t always a great thing. Sometimes it fucking hurts. And I’m not sure if I’ve hit rock bottom yet. And I don’t know how to climb out of this abyss.