Page 17 of Staying for Her

God, I love that look on her, but right now I need fearless Billie, the one that wanted to fight her ex in the hall when he called her a whore. That’s who I need to walk through that front door. I say nothing, letting my silence be enough for her to understand what I mean, and when her eyes meet mine, I watch with rapt attention as the uncertainty falls away, replaced by that confidence that attracted me to her in the first place.

“I’m so fucking ready,” she mutters, kissing my lips quickly before jumping off my lap and over the center console, opening her door and getting out.

“Fuck,” I whisper, my eyes catching a glimpse of the front porch and seeing my mother standing there, arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed in my direction. I take a second to close my eyes and lean my head back against the front seat, taking deep breaths because I know the second I walk up those steps, my blood pressure will rise and the calm I felt just seconds ago with Billie on my lap will disappear.

“You gonna leave me out here alone?” Billie teases, her fingers knocking on my window as my eyes fly open.

Shit. I quickly open my door, step out and nervously smooth out my pants until Billie’s hand takes mine and squeezes.

“Stop. You look handsome and if you get too angry today, we just leave, okay?”

I nod, trying not to divulge just how much I need this night to go well. Everything I have ever wanted lies in the hands of the woman that raised me, who simultaneously seems to be the woman that takes pride in making me miserable.

“Let’s get this over with,” I mutter, leaning down and taking her lips in mine for a quick kiss, trying to ignore my mother’s gaze as it bores into us.

Billie smiles against my mouth before breaking away, taking my hand and leading me up the driveway. Once we reach the steps, my mother’s shadow overtakes both of us and we stop.

“Well, well. Nice of you two to put your sex life on hold to come in and have dinner with us.”

I roll my eyes, my fingers squeezing Billie’s for dear life as my mother’s eyes go from me to the woman standing beside me.

“Sorry about that, Mrs. Collins. I was really nervous, and Lucas was just trying to calm me down.” It’s an innocent answer, but from the way my mother’s eyes narrow, not one she believes.

“You seem perfectly fine to me,” my mother says snidely as she turns her back and walks toward the front door.

“Yes, well your son has very talented hands.”

I almost choke, tripping over the last stair as my eyes bulge and I look down at Billie’s huge smile. My mother’s intake of breath is the only sign that she heard what was said, and before I can say anything, the door is pried open and we walk through.

“I know I said to give them hell, but maybe tone it down a bit?” I tease, secretly loving the way my mother reacted and appreciating the comedic timing.

“Whatever you say,” Billie whispers, her fingers teasing my wrist as we follow my mother through the large foyer and into the sitting room.

To me, this is a home, but to Billie, this is exceptionally different than where I live now. And from the way her head swivels and her eyes bulge, I say she’s never been in a house like this before.

“You actually grew up here?” she asks, her voice echoing down the hall as my mother’s head turns to stare us both down.

“Yup, all eighteen years.”

She’s silent, taking in all the gold accents, antique furniture, and the very large family portrait that hangs just under the grand staircase.

“How the fuck did you turn out normal?”

It’s meant to be a whisper, a line just for me but instead, it carries, making my sister’s shocked inhale stop us both in our tracks.

“Normal? You think my brother is normal?” she remarks snidely, her perfect fingernails pushing her perfectly styled hair away from her face.

Lena was always the favorite. Even when we were kids, everyone around me would always tell me I was lucky to have such a beautiful sister when in reality all I saw was the hatred and ugliness she kept inside. It seeps out of every pore and no matter how much I try to justify her words and actions, nothing can make her a better person.

“More normal than this place,” Billie starts, her shoulders straightening as my family takes her in for the first time.

Normally I would tell her to tone it down and placate them for as long as possible until the contract is signed. But seeing the looks on their faces is enough for me to say fuck it, if they want to play games, so can I.

“I think I grew up in an apartment that was smaller than your foyer.”

A chuckle escapes and my father clears his throat, his fingers adjusting his perfectly polished cuff links as he stands to his full height, towering over everyone.

“Son, instead of standing there and chuckling to yourself, maybe you want to introduce your… friend.” The use of the word “friend” is intentional and means to spear me right where he thinks it will hurt, but little does he know that at this moment I’m not as afraid of him as I usually am.

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