Page 42 of Panty Dropper

“Oh.” I nodded and hoped she couldn’t see the roller coaster of emotion I’d been on since meeting Billy Comfort AKA Panty Dropper.

She scooted her chair even closer to me and continued speaking at a low volume, which I felt was causing more people to look our way than if she’d just talked regularly, but I didn’t think it was my place to say anything.

“Listen, Rea, I’m not going to pry, and you know I cosign on anything that will make you forget about Blah-Blah-Blaine, but in the spirit of full disclosure I feel like I need to warn you.”

Nadia wasn’t dramatic, but she did love a good drama at others’ expense, so I took her words with a grain of salt. “Warn me about what?”

“Well, from the nickname I’m sure that you can piece together that Billy has a reputation. It’s not good.”

My eyebrows drew together. “A reputation? What is this, a sock hop in the fifties?”

She laughed. “Trust me, I’m not trying to slut shame Billy Comfort. I just want you to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I’m not getting myself into anything.” I spent the night with him. We were two adults that had consensual—and thanks to one very strong cup of coffee—sober sex. There was nothing wrong with that.

The twinkle in her eyes and subtle smirk pulling at her lips told me she didn’t believe that for one minute. “Sure. Okay. But just know one thing– his nickname– he’s earned it. He’s aimed those charms at stronger women than you, my friend, and they have fallen to their knees under the power.”

“Seriously?” I chuckled. “He’s just a guy.”

I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince myself or Nadia. When I’d woken up at four a.m. wrapped in his strong arms, for the first time in my life I felt totally content. I felt like I was exactly in the right place, a place I never wanted to leave. I was finally home. Whatever that meant.

I’d never known what being “home” would feel like or how I would know it, but waking up with Billy cradling me in his arms made me feel safe, protected, and treasured. That was my first thought—I’m finally home. It had been so unnerving that I’d slipped out from beneath his grasp, grabbed my clothes off the floor, and gotten the hell out of there.

It was all too much. From the intimate conversation in the kitchen, to the hot, dirty sex, to the emotions that starting my day in Billy’s bed and arms had stirred up in me…hell, it was just all too much.

“Just a guy?” A pitying grin curled on Nadia’s lips, the kind of pitying smile you’d give someone when bowled over by their glaring naïveté. “Billy Comfort is no ordinary guy. He’s a legend. Casanova’s got nothing on him.”

She was right, but I didn’t like being underestimated or pitied. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to be scribbling his last name all over my notebooks. I’m a grown woman, I have some self-respect and perspective.”

Her lips parted in surprise as she inhaled sharply before a huge grin spread ear to ear. “Does that mean something did happen between you two?”

Shit. I was a lawyer, and I’d basically just admitted that yes, something had happened between us. I never misspoke. Not even in social situations. I was guarded and never incriminated myself. She was right. Billy Comfort was no ordinary man.

Her smile dropped and her tone turned somber. “Like I said, I’m all for anything that will put Blah-Blah-Blaine in the rearview, but this warning is twofold. It’s not just Billy’s reputation to consider, it’s yours as well.”

My brow was getting some Olympic-level wrinkling practice during this conversation. Nadia had always been a level-headed, no judgment kind of person. It was what I loved most about her. She loved gossip, but never when it tore someone’s character down. “What are you talking about? What reputation do I have?”

“Well, you don’t have one yet. And if you want to keep working for Jennings Abernathy, then you should probably keep it that way.”

“Isn’t one of his sons in rehab and another just got a DUI?” Unlike Nadia, Mrs. Beasley had no issue with tearing someone’s character down, and had given me the lowdown on the entire Abernathy family when I told her where I was working.

“Yes, but as I’m sure you of all people are painfully aware, nepotism is real. People have double standards when it comes to their children.”

“So you’re saying that I need to be a nun or I’ll get a Scarlet H for Ho pinned to my chest.”

Nadia laughed. “Not me. I’m not saying that. You know my motto—let your freak flag fly! And if that freak flag happens to be a patchwork quilt of Billy Comfort’s boxers, so much the better. I’m talking about what everyone else will think.”

A crease formed in my forehead. “Everyone else? Like who? Mr. Abernathy?”

“Yes, him.” She gestured widely. “But also the town. I told you Firefly is different. It’s a small town, and it’s set in its ways. When it comes to reputations, a good one is damn easy to lose, but a bad one’s almost impossible to shake.”

I wanted to argue, but I could see the truth of it plain as day. As much as I stood for sex positivity and female empowerment, I knew the hard way that small towns like this one could have much more provincial views on sleeping around.

Growing up, I’d heard what people said about my mom. We couldn’t go to the grocery store, or farmer’s market, or movies without me hearing someone whisper home wrecker or slut. I’d seen the way that people looked at her, the way they judged her, and by association, me. I wasn’t invited to the birthday parties of my classmates because none of the wives wanted my mom around their husbands.

As an adult, I’d come to the conclusion that everyone had known about my biological father and her. So why was he an upstanding member of the community with a successful real estate business, and my mom was shunned to the point that she’d tried to take her own life on more than one occasion?

“Plus, there’s the fact he’s a Comfort. That would be an issue.”

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