Page 48 of Addicted Lies

“No.” I never told her about the conversation I had with Hawke that day he found us in Dutton’s kitchen. And I’ll never admit that he tried to force me to promise to stop seeing her. “Go back to sleep. He won’t wake for a good twelve hours.” I don’t usually invite her to stay the night, but with Dutton out of town, I feel like, for some reason, I might sleep better, like I need her too.

I climb in next to her, and she lies back down on her side, facing me. “Do you fuck anyone else here?” she asks. Which means she overheard the conversation.

“No.” I hear a soft sigh leave her lips. “Does that bother you? Do you want me to be fucking other women?”

“No.” She’s quick to reply, then immediately lowers her voice. “It’s just… What are we, exactly?”

My eyebrows dip in confusion. I know what she’s asking. But if she thinks we can be anything more than what we are, she’s living in a fairy tale. Tonight should’ve deterred her from those thoughts. I confessed my demons and ugliness so she’d have more reasons to run the other fucking way and kill this off for the both of us, because I’m incapable of doing it.

I realize that if anything, I’m running away, and I’m okay with that. I don’t deserve someone like Billie Taylor, especially when she’s adamant that I remain as the man that sticks to being her dirty little secret. I even lied to my brother to respect her wishes. I don’t resent her for it but there can be nothing for us past this point. She needs to find someone who can offer her a stable relationship, someone whose not prone to violence or addictions and have a white picket fence lifestyle. I stand for everything that is opposite to that so I harden my jaw as I once again purposefully push her away because maybe this time she’ll finally have the strength to step away. Because I certainly don’t have it. I already tried that once and it lead us right here in the now.

“We are nothing but two bodies who like to touch each other,” I say matter-of-factly.

I can see the immediate hurt in her expression, and I fucking hate myself for being the one to put it there. But I can’t let her get attached to me. I’m a sinking rock. She needs stability and a man who can give her what she wants. That’s not me.

“And that’s all?” she asks incredulously.

“Yes.”

She nods once, and I can see the hurt shift into anger. Billie turns away from me and gives me her back.

Silence fills the room for another few minutes before she pushes the covers back and stands.

“I need to go.” She goes to the bathroom and puts on her wet clothes. I consider offering her something of mine to wear, but I have the good sense to keep my mouth shut.

She avoids my gaze until she’s fully dressed and untucks her hair from the hoodie so it falls down her back. “Will your brother see me?”

“No, he’ll be asleep now.” Hawke’s a heavy sleeper and is out cold within minutes of his head hitting the pillow.

“Good.” And then she slips out the door without so much as a goodbye.

I know I’m an asshole for what I said.

But I also know I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t care.

And that’s a fucking problem.

CHAPTER 23

Billie

“You’ve been awfully quiet lately. Why?” Ivy says from beside me as we sit in the back of a cab on the way to my brother’s club, Pearl. We’ve been there a few times before, and it’s because Posie invited us that we’re going tonight. I’m hoping to drag her out afterward if my brother lets her out of his sight for more than two seconds. But I know she doesn’t enjoy going out too much because she prefers being home with her son, so this might be the compromise.

“Huh?” I turn to face her.

Ivy sighs, exasperated. “There you go again, off with the fairies. Everything okay? Is it the new job?”

“No, everything’s fine. Just tired lately, that’s all.” I shoot her a small smile. “Did you end up seeing that guy from our double date again? And by the way, I am never doing that with you again.”

She starts laughing and nodding her head. We haven’t seen much of one another this week because our schedules haven’t lined up, and I’m grateful she wasn’t home when I returned to the apartment last weekend after spending time at Ford’s. I went home that night and had a hot bath, my mind running over a million thoughts. And I’ve tried since to forget about it. To forget abouthim. To reshape my expectation that sex is all we’ll ever be. And it’s fucking hard.

Hope is traveling again but is due to return soon, which will be nice. It’s good to have our trio complete. I don’t think Hope was built for the spotlight like her mother. She definitely acts more like her father with her quiet, solitary ways. I’m certain she takes the time coming back home to recharge.

“Yep. I went over to his place last weekend. They live together, too. Anyway, after we fucked, which was shit, I might add, his friend, the one you went out with, asked if he could join us. My guess is this is something they do often. It was so obvious.” She nonchalantly shrugs. “And I figured, what the fuck? So I fucked them both. Didn’t improve much, but oh well. Eiffel Tower ticked off the list.”

I can’t help but laugh at her ability to always embrace her nature and have the best fucking time doing it. Maybe I need to do the same thing: branch out to other guys beyond just Ford. I’m certain no one will live up to him, though.

If I want anything more than just sex, I have to let Ford go before I get hurt. Because I was hurt the other night and furious at myself for feeling anything more for him when it was me who set our boundaries to begin with. And I still haven’t completely digested the news about his vices and addictions. What does that even mean to be addicted to someone?

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