Going for Broke: Oakland Hills Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Friends with Benefits) (20 page)

I
an pushed his coffee away
, spilling it on his hands.

Jane thought—that he’d—that he hadn’t—with Billie—

“No,” he said quickly. And a little too forcefully. “I’ve never had that problem again.”

“Lovely. So glad to hear it.”

He stifled a groan. This was the big thing, That Which Could Not Be Named. The reason she hated him. The moment that still gave him nightmares.

After almost two years of being cute high school sweethearts, the time came for them to take their relationship to the next level. They were seniors in high school, they knew what to do and how to do it safely. Already eighteen, Jane had a credit card and booked a motel room in Santa Rosa, a neighboring city that was big enough for them to feel anonymous.

And he hadn’t been able to do it.

He’d wanted to, or thought he had, but he couldn’t. His body wouldn’t obey. And then she looked so hurt, and the pressure had mounted. Pressure mounted, but not him.

“I was just a kid,” he said.

“I know. I’m sorry.” She reached over and, hesitating, put her hand over his. “I really am.”

Itching for a fight instead of a show of pity, he snorted. “Sure. That’s why you broke up with me.”

“I told you it wasn’t because of what happened.”

“What
didn’t
happen,” he said. “Don’t you think I wanted to perform? Do you think I—” He bit off his words. It was too humiliating. He should find Billie, not dig up the past.

“I was angry at you for not knowing your own feelings,” she said. “You were a terrible kisser, too. I didn’t know at the time, because I’d never kissed anyone else, but—”

He stood up. “You don’t know where she is. You just want to insult me.”

“What I’m trying to say, Ian, is that we were a bad match. Always, from the first date to the last. You just weren’t that into me, not in a sexual way.” She leaned back in her chair and sipped her coffee. “But I was into you. That’s why it hurt so much.”

Her words slowly sank in.

What could he say? He’d cared about her. He still did, in spite of the cold war she’d waged over the years. She was like family, like a…

Sister.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I know. I am too. I was in denial. I could tell you didn’t feel the same way but just couldn’t figure out why you kept going out with me. I was hoping you had secret feelings I just couldn’t see.” She exhaled slowly. “It was just so humiliating.”

“Yeah. For me too,” he said roughly.

“In college, I dated a guy who was really, really into me, more than I was into him, and I feel bad now. I think I used him.”

He thought of all the women he’d slept with in the dorms. He lifted his mug to his lips. “I can relate.”

They sat without speaking for a minute, drinking their coffee. It was a surprisingly restful silence, and it got him thinking. “Did you want me to stay away from Billie because you thought I wouldn’t be able to get it up for her either?”

Jane coughed. After she wiped her mouth, she shook her head. “No. She’s not an eighteen-year-old virgin.” A knowing smile quirked her lips. “A few mechanical problems in bed wouldn’t faze her.”

“Then why?”

She met his gaze.

“What?” he asked again.

“You have something to prove,” she said, glancing down at his crotch. “I didn’t want you using her for that. And then throwing her aside.”

From his point of view, he was the one being thrown aside. “She’s not a child. She doesn’t need you protecting her.”

“Ian, you just can’t understand. You’re an only child and your parents are still married to each other.”

“That has nothing to do with anything,” he said.

“Right after Billie was born, our parents got divorced. They got married again, and each had two more children. Our mom and dad did their best, but they were busy with new families. A lot of the time, Billie was left to fend for herself. I had to step in.”

“You were left to fend for yourself too,” he said.

“But I was the eldest. I had more years with all their attention. It gave me confidence.”

He emptied his cup. Talking about shit like this made his brain hurt. He just wanted to be with Billie and he knew it had nothing to do with failing to maintain an erection over ten years ago. He also knew that Jane wasn’t nearly as confident as she claimed.

“It’s time for me and Billie to figure this out for ourselves,” he said, standing up. “Tell me where she is.”

“I don’t know where she is. It’s only an educated guess.”

“Fine. Tell me your educated guess.”

“You have to promise me you’re not going to go rushing over there and barge in and make a scene.”

“I never make scenes.”

“Until today, I would’ve agreed with you,” Jane said. “But you’re not yourself.”

That was only too true. He hated feeling unbalanced and illogical like this. He had to find Billie and resolve this as soon as possible.

Forcing his muscles to relax, he clasped his hands in front of him like a calm, patient monk. “I won’t cause a scene.”

She looked up at him, studying him over the rim of her mug. “She might not be there. This is a relative of mine. I don’t want you upsetting her.”

A relative.

Ian turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen.

How could he have been so stupid? He’d met the woman himself. She lived nearby and was obviously eager to reunite the family.

Jane was chasing after him. “Where are you going?”

“It’s your aunt, right? Trixie. Who lives in Oakland.”

“Technically, she’s my first cousin once removed, but yes. How did you—”

“Billie’s there.” He flung open the door. “Thanks for your help.”

“We don’t know—” Jane stopped. “If you see her, tell her to come home. Tell her I was the one who sent you.”

Stopping on the bottom step, he regarded her over his shoulder. “Really?”

“Hopefully she won’t hate me.”

Ian walked to his truck and opened the door. “I know how you feel,” he muttered.

* * *

O
n Thursday evening
, Billie lifted her mango-flavored seltzer water and tapped it against Trixie’s champagne flute.

“To new beginnings,” Trixie said.

“To the wheels of justice,” Hugo said, tapping his beer bottle against both of their delicate glasses. “May they ever turn.”

“They haven’t turned yet.” Billie sipped her water. She was staying away from booze, at least while she was at Trixie’s house. The woman was a bad influence.

“It’s the government,” Hugo said. “It’ll take a while. But you nailed him.”

Imagining a different kind of nailing, Billie shuddered. “God forbid.” She’d spent the morning writing and collecting four more signed statements, these from her supportive coworkers, and submitted them, with Butter’s, to the city manager and union rep before the office closed for the day.

“When you go back to work, you can insist on more help,” Trixie said. “They’ve been taking advantage of you.”

“Insist on getting your boss’s job after they sack him,” Hugo said.

She’d considered both of those things herself but was coming up with a new plan, one she’d need to talk to Jane about.

“I’ve decided to go home tonight,” Billie said. “I can’t thank you enough for having me. It’s meant more than I can say.”

“Your mother will be happy to see you, I’m sure,” Trixie said.

“No, I meant my grandmother’s house.
My
house.” At least for a little while.

“When will you go?” Trixie asked.

“After dinner, I think, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I mind. I’d like to keep you here forever.” Smiling, Trixie scooped another square of lasagna onto Billie’s plate. “But if you must go, you must.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Hugo said.

“Are you kidding?” Billie loaded her fork with pasta and lifted it to her mouth. “You feed me, you ply me with liquor, you make me feel like a million bucks. Good luck getting rid of me.”

The dogs began barking furiously, running for the front door.

“There he is,” Trixie said.

Hugo wiped tomato sauce off his shirt with his napkin. “You just couldn’t help yourself.”

“I didn’t do a thing.” Trixie stood up. “I knew I didn’t have to this time.” She walked out of the dining room, shushing the dogs as she approached the front door.

Billie looked at Hugo. “Couldn’t help what?”

Mumbling into his napkin, Hugo averted his eyes.

And then she heard Ian’s voice.

N
o
. She wasn’t ready yet.

Heart thundering in her chest, Billie bolted out of her chair and jogged to the staircase. She got to the bottom step before she decided she was a coward to run.

Why was he there? Although she still thought she’d had the right to be annoyed with him for groping her at work, she didn’t expect him to see it that way. One little kiss at a low-paying job, big deal.

“Billie.”

She turned around. He was standing just inside the door, watching her in a way that made her grip the bannister for balance.

“Hello there.” She managed a quick smile.

“I’m sorry,” he said roughly. “I should’ve figured out where you were sooner and come earlier.”

Billie glanced at Trixie, who was tiptoeing away. “You didn’t tell him?”

“Why does everyone think I would interfere like that?” Trixie held a hand over her heart.

“It was Jane who told me,” he said. He reached up to his temple. “Or she would have if I hadn’t figured it out myself.”

“Jane didn’t know.”

“She guessed,” he said.

“If she had, she wouldn’t tell you.”

“She sent me,” he said. “She told me to ask you to come home.”

That was a story Billie needed to hear from Jane to believe. They were still standing in the foyer with Trixie and Hugo only steps away in the dining room, and she’d prefer privacy.

But not too much privacy or she’d end up kissing him and taking off her clothes and just generally screwing up again.

Trixie appeared in her jacket with Hugo at her side. “We’re going out to the movies.” She gave Billie a quick hug as she walked by. “Keep in touch, both of you. Don’t worry about the door. It’ll lock behind you.”

Billie stared at her.

“You did say you were going home tonight, didn’t you?” Trixie continued.

“Yes, but—” Billie began.

“So nice having you!” Trixie pushed Hugo out the front door.

Billie belatedly remembered her manners. She moved to follow. “Wait, let me thank—”

The door slammed shut between them.

Ian turned to her with a grin. “Nice lady.”

“She must have had something to do with your being here.”

“No. It was Jane.”

“I just can’t believe that. She hates you.”

“We made up.”

Billie felt queasy. What kind of making up? “You did?”

“You’re jealous.” His grin widened.

“I am not.” She took a step back, not wanting to get too close.

He took a step forward, apparently feeling the opposite. His expression became serious. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’m great, actually.”

“Great?”

She pushed her shoulders back. “Yes, I am.”

That seemed to throw him. Frowning, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I see.” He paused. “You were already planning on going back home?”

“Yep. Packed my bags already.”

“Jane will be happy to see you.” Holding her gaze, he dropped his head a few inches, moving in closer. His stubble had grown into a dark shadow along his jaw, as if he hadn’t shaved in a while. And the clean scent of his cologne was missing. Something wasn’t quite right about him.

She put a hand on his chest and leaned away. “Are
you
all right?”

“I’m fine now that I found you.” He caught her wrist, snaked an arm around her waist, and pulled her against him, dropping his head the last few inches to bring his mouth against hers.

The warm pressure of his lips engulfed her in sweet, overwhelming desire.

She’d missed this. God, she’d missed this. Being put on administrative leave had been a useful distraction. By obsessing about Doc and Butter and impending financial ruin, she’d been able to forget, or pretend to forget, about Ian.

About how much she wanted this.

“Billie.” He dragged his lips along her cheek, down to her throat. “Billie.”

But she wanted more.

“Wait.” She tilted her head away, but he took it as a submissive invitation and only kissed her more passionately, nipping and sucking the muscles along her neck as his palm found her breast and squeezed.

She was going to have to be strong. At least for a few minutes. Or one. A person could do anything for sixty seconds, right?

“Ian, stop for a minute.” Maybe he also needed to hear there was a time limit. “I need to tell you something.”

He drew back, eyes burning. “You’re pregnant.”

She almost laughed. “No. God. I’m on the pill. And you used condoms.”

His expression didn’t change. “All right, then what?”

“We can’t keep doing this.”

He looked around. “Good point. We’ll go to my place.”

She figured she had about thirty seconds left.
You can do this
.

“No,” she said.

“What?” His befuddled face looked very unlike his genius self.

Time was running out. Already she was rubbing her thumb along a sexy tuft of hair rising up under his collar. She managed to draw willpower from a well deep inside her that she didn’t think she had. “This is more than just sex. At least for me.” She put her hands on either side of his face and looked into his eyes. “Is it for you?”

Her heart pounded in her ears as she waited for him to respond.

But she didn’t have to wait long, it only felt like it.

“Of course it’s more than sex.” He wrapped his other arm around her waist and lifted her off the ground. It wasn’t three or four feet or anything, but there were definitely a few centimeters of air under her toes. He pressed his forehead against hers. “
Billie
.”

Either her weight was squeezing all the air out of his lungs or he was truly moved by the moment, because he sounded as overwhelmed as she felt.

“Billie,” he said again, setting her down gently on the floor. “I’ve been trying to figure out why I was feeling so bad. You went away for two days, but my emotional reaction was totally disproportional to the situation.”

Billie blinked at him, wondering if he was trying to say he cared about her, at least a little. “Really? What did you do?” Maybe if she heard the details, she’d understand. “Did you punch the wall?”

He drew back. “I wanted to.”

“But you didn’t actually do it.”

“I’ll do it now if you want me to,” he said.

Tempting, but it was Trixie’s house. “Better not. You were saying?”

“I yelled at Jane.”

She would’ve liked to see that. “You did? Did she yell back?”

“No, she felt sorry for me.”

That wasn’t possible. Jane? “No.”

“She did.”

“Why?” Billie asked.

He moved his hand to her cheek and smiled into her eyes, not answering. “I have an idea,” he said finally. “How about I get out the tux and take you to San Francisco?”

Her heart flipped over. A romantic date? In nice clothes? She swallowed, suddenly breathless.

In other words, her emotional reaction was totally disproportional to the situation.

“I’ve always wanted to go to the Top of the Mark,” she said. “But maybe that’s too touristy for—”

“Sounds great.” He lowered his head to whisper into her ear. “Want to know a secret?”

She nodded. No question.

“I’m not a bad dancer.” His teeth scraped along the edge of her ear. “I even like it.”

Shivers tickled down her spine. “I love dancing.”

“I know,” he said.

Those sixty seconds were long over. “I’d love that,” she said, stretching up against him.

I love you
.

Their lips came together at the same moment.