Page 62 of All the Forbidden Things
Again, this is why I shouldn’t drink.
Layla shifts slightly, and I watch as Billie's palm instantly rubs her back in an attempt to soothe her. Billie licks her lips, and my dick twitches at the exact same moment her eyes flutter open and land on me. They widen before she blinks them closed for a long moment. When she opens them again, they’re cast down at my bare feet, where they linger a second before travelling up the length of my legs. They settle on my torso, and I realise that I’m still holding my T-shirt in my hand and am, in fact, naked from the waist up.
Her tongue flicks out, and she licks her lips again before dragging her top teeth over the bottom one and holding it hostage, trapped inside that perfect little mouth of hers.
I can’t help but smile as her eyes glide appreciatively over my ink-covered abs and chest, and when theyfinallymeet mine, I hold her gaze and hope she doesn’t cast hers back down. I’m pretty fucking sure that my hard-on will be more than apparent as it strains against my boxers and sweats.
She blinks bleary eyes at me a couple of times before giving me a small smile and saying, “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I fell asleep. I’d never normally—shit! How unprofessional—”
“Bamm—”
“. . . of me. I can’t believe I did that.”
“Bamm. It’s fine. I do it all the time. Sleeping on my chest is Layla’s favourite thing, and I’m sure yours is much softer and more comfortable.” I nod, slicing my eyes to, and quickly away from, her chest where Layla currently sleeps.
“I know, but you’re . . . I mean, I don’t mean my chest is more comfortable than yours because I’m sure yours is very comfortable, but, yeah, you’re her dad, you’re allowed to fall asleep. This is my job. Imagine if you went out on stage and fell asleep?”
I smile at her comparison, at how flustered she’s getting and how she just confirmed that she’d taken the job drunk me offered her. “Stop stressing, Bamm. Seriously, this gig got landed on you out of the blue. If anyone’s irresponsible here, it’s me. Like you said, I’m her dad. I drank too much yesterday and left everyone else to take care of Layla.”
I watch her eyes dart back down to my chest, and she swallows. I quickly pull my T-shirt over my head, not because I don’t want her looking at me but because I like it when she does.
Too much.
I like her eyes on me. I like the fact my bare chest affects her, and as much as I like the way my body reacts to all of that, it also scares the ever-loving shit out of me.
I steer my thoughts, and in turn, the conversation towards Layla. “How’s she been?”
“She’s been great,” Billie responds with a smile aimed at the top of Layla’s head. She rubs at her back again before kissing her temple, and my insides warm at the affectionate move.
“She’s such a good baby, Max. So content. You’ve done an amazing job, considering all the disruption she’s had in her little life.”
I take a moment to bask in her praise. I’ve heard it from others, but for some reason Billie’s approval of how I care for my daughter is important to me. Before I can thank her, the oven timer goes off.
“Wendy made a lasagna earlier. I put it in on low since I wasn’t sure what time you’d wake up but thought you might be hungry when you did.”
“You met Wendy?”
“Oh yes.” She gives a nod and a small laugh.
“She’s quite a character, right?”
“She sure is. I think that’s why I fell asleep, her talking wore me out.”
“Don’t ever tell her this, but sometimes I pretend to be asleep just so she shuts up.”
“Does it work?” she asks with a smile.
“Fuck no. The woman never stops talking.”
She giggles. And fuck me, it reaches every part of my body. I even feel a sense of pride thatIdidthat.Imade her laugh.
We both smile as we stare at each other.
This is easy, that’s what it is. Everything with Billie is easy and such a stark contrast from the strain that existed between Whitney and me. Strained, tense, and forced, and yet I was totally oblivious to it . . . Or maybe I just chose to ignore it, as desperate as I was for us to work.
“Come and take your daughter. I set the timer to go off fifteen minutes before the lasagna will be ready to remind me to put the garlic bread in.”
I move forward with a little too much force, not expecting Billie to sit up or for my fingers to brush across each of her tits as I lift Layla from her. Our eyes meet, and we both still for the longest few seconds of my life. I stand up straight, moving Layla against me, my racing heart calming as I breathe her in. She smells like Layla, with a hint of Billie’s fresh citrusy smell mixed in. I may take in another breath … an extra deep breath.
