It was a Sunday morning; the kind that started peacefully. The dew was fresh on the grass, creating tiny parallel universes in each droplet of water. The fog was just barely lifting, giving the earth a sense of renewal; a sense of awakening each living person all at once.
James thoroughly enjoyed his Sunday mornings.
After he'd dropped off his gift to Billie's home, he returned to his usual routine. He walked to the local library, exchanging some books he'd checked out on pediatric care, for even more books on the very same subject. He then spent an hour in the library, strolling through the shelves with an index card and an ink pen, taking notes of the books he was sure he'd come back for in the near future.
Once he'd gotten his fill, he stepped back out into the sunlight, only to be happily greeted by its warmth. His eyes followed the people who rode by on bikes, zipped by in cars; all of them starting their day at the same time he did.
All the same, he joined them, beginning his stroll down the road, his nose buried in his book. Because James took this walk routinely, he didn't ever have to look up. He avoided large dips in the pavement and dodged areas of crumbled gravel without ever missing a single word of medical terminology.
Though it may have seemed obvious, no one truly realized the brain James had. He was a medical and physics genius, in every sense. He could remember the amount of steps he took in a single day, if you asked him to set up a plausible formula. He could thread together how many breaths a person would take in their lifetime, if given a functioning theory. His mind worked like a computer, though it seemed that few truly took notice. Maybe it was because he was so handsome. Maybe it was because he didn't flaunt it. Maybe it was because to him, it didn't seem like something someone should flaunt. But he'd always been incredibly intelligent.
Until Billie came around.
Then, he'd lose all sense of what to say.
James was crazy in love with Billie; he had been for years. And it was something about that love that made him stupid whenever she was near. Just at the thought of her, he often lost focus. At the sight of her, anything he ever knew would fade away.
But to him, she was just so . . . incredible.
She'd always seen his brain, no matter how fleeting it was when she was around. Billie relied on his intelligence to get her through her Physics courses, in fact. So there was no doubt in James's mind that she was a rare find; a gem he added to his collection the moment he met her. On top of that, Billie was loyal, and charming, and honest, even when it hurt.
And she was beautiful.
Stunningly . . . beautiful.
Unexpectedly, James stumbled, tripping on an object that had rolled into his path. He tumbled forward, dropping his books on the way down. As he caught himself, he shook his head, certain that his thoughts of Billie were what once again made him miss his footing.
"Gnarly," he heard.
And he smiled.
He pulled himself from the ground, recollecting his books as he stood.
"You tripped me," he said, turning to face her. Billie was glowing, her skin fresh, her hair brighter than the last time James had seen her. The sight of her surprised him in a different way; a lovely, heart-softening way.
Billie grabbed her board from the ground; the board that she did, in fact, use to trip him. "Who reads a book so intensely that they don't see a giant skateboard two feet in front of them?"
If only she knew,
That the book wasn't the reason James was distracted.
"How'd you find me?" He asked, ignoring her question. At Billie's smile, his paralleled.
"Kristen's sister works at the library," she said. "And it just so happens that . . . I've been looking for you."
James squinted at her. "Why is that?"
Billie lifted the brand new skateboard, briefly. "I . . . uh, I wanted to thank you in person."
"That's it?" James chuckled, cocking an eyebrow, skeptically. As he waited, he watched the wind push back Billie's bright blue locks. She batted her eyelashes, the way she did when she was nervous.
"I don't know how to say this to you, of all people . . . and it's actually kind of funny. But, anyway, James-,"
"Yes?" He teased, dragging the words out of her.
But Billie laughed. "I like you."
"I know that," James replied. "You told me. And . . . I think you kissed me? But, that could have been a fever dream."
"No," Billie giggled. "I did kiss you."
"I know," James humored. "So, what is it, Blue?"
Billie was nervous. She'd been nervous all morning. Parts of her felt crazy; after all, she had hunted him down and stalked him, just to talk to him. It was a bit much, even if it was just James.
Still, she lifted her chin to him, giving him her famous smile. "If you're not too busy today," she cocked her head to one side, adorably. "I'd like to spend some time with you." Then, taking James by complete surprise, she carefully took his free hand. "Alone."
James was genuinely stunned. But he kept his cool, and gave her a smirk. "Blue, are you asking me out?"
Billie shrugged. "Technically, I'm asking you in." She watched James's eyebrows raise slowly, and quickly Billie became bashful. "But, right now, it just feels like I'm embarrassing myself."
It didn't take long for James to gather that Billie wanted to come over to his house. However, he was puzzled as to why a question as simple as this troubled her so. He'd invited her over multiple times, but they'd never gotten around to it. He couldn't quite spot the difference.
"You're always welcome at my place," he smiled. "I've been meaning to show you around, anyway."
When Billie started to giggle, James couldn't help but feel incredibly confused. She laughed as though he weren't getting something, or he was taking something she'd said too lightly.
But Billie just shook her head, blinking at him. "Alright," she sighed happily. "It's a date."
--
James's home was gorgeous.
It wasn't a mansion by any means, but it held features that stole breath. Its design was monochromatic, having everything the color of a tan ashed wood. The fireplace sat parallel to the couch, adjacent a large glass door that gave a fantastic view of the mountains in the distance. James's pool glittered in its foreground, setting off a stunning hue throughout the entirety of the living room.
All over again, Billie was impressed. "Wow," she'd said upon entry, leaning her board against the wood-paneled wall. "This is quite the step up from your old place."
"My old place wasn't mine," he said simply, giving her a quick wink. James went straight for the fridge, tossing his keys onto the counter before grabbing two beers. After he placing them onto the counter, he sifted through his drawers, in search of a bottle opener.
As he did this, Billie moved nearer to him, deciding to sit on top of the counter at his side. "Is Nate here?"
"Nah," James said, finally finding the opener. "He works night shifts on Sundays, too." He popped open the first beer and handed it straight to Billie, his focus keen as he moved on to the second deep indigo bottlecap.
Billie's eyes scanned the ceiling; she tucked in her lips in pretend thought. "So . . . we're alone?"
At her tone of voice, James finally tore his gaze away from the beer and looked up at her.
"Blue," he said, slowly raising his bottle toward his lips as he spoke. "Is there something you want to talk about?"
Billie watched him carefully as the tip of the bottle met the pouty curvature of his bottom lip. Just at the sight of it, she took in a deep breath, releasing an exhale that sent shivers down her spine.
"No," she answered. "Not really."
James lowered the bottle. "Then, why is it so important to you that we're alone?"
This time, Billie took a swig. She needed the courage. And as James watched her movements, he mimicked them, taking another sip as well. Only, right when Billie lowered her bottle, James raised his. And the moment the liquid entered his mouth, Billie's words finally left hers.
"I had a sex dream about you last night," she said flatly.
James choked on his beer, nearly spewing it across the kitchen. He began coughing, as some of the liquid had gone down his windpipe.
"Whoa," Billie said, raising an eyebrow. "You alright?"
James took a few more seconds to catch his breath, clearing his throat once he'd finally regained his composure.
"Did I hear you correctly?" He said, genuinely shocked.
Billie smiled coyly. "I guess that depends on what you heard." That smug smirk on her face, she held James's confused stare, even as she enjoyed yet another swig of her beer.
He blinked, gathering his thoughts. "You had . . . a sex dream about me-,"
"Mm-hmm."
"Last night?"
"Yup."
James closed his eyes briefly. "Okay . . . ," he squinted at her. "Why?"
Casually, Billie shrugged.
But she knew why.
She'd gotten carried away when she kissed him the night before, and it triggered her into feelings for him that she never thought she'd have. She remembered the moment she'd climbed into his lap, and how, almost reflexively, his hands slid across the skin of her back. She remembered how she'd forced her tongue to dance with his in the instant their lips touched, and he seemed to already know her every move; her every demand. She remembered how she'd rocked her hips against his, and the smallest, slightest huff of a groan that had mistakenly tumbled from his lips at the sensation.
She remembered getting goosebumps within a matter of seconds, just before taking flight from it all and bolting out of the car.
Of course it followed her into her dreams.
Of course it did.
"So this dream," James began, asking for clarity. "This dream is why you wanted to come over."
"Right," Billie affirmed.
"Blue, I'm . . . ," he placed his hands on either side of her on the counter. "I'm afraid I don't really know where you're going with this."
But Billie didn't feel like talking much more.
Slowly, she lifted a hand to James's shirt collar, and ever so carefully, she pulled him in. Their lips, at first open, closed upon one another's; a delicate dance. But only once did James allow this, even as her tongue seemed to ask him to stay.
"Wait, wait," he said, pulling away. "Blue . . . , I don't think anything else should happen until I know--we know-- what exactly is going on between us."
Billie appeared puzzled. "Well, I don't think I'll know what's going on between us until something happens," she reversed.
Only then did it click for James.
And upon this realization, he placed his hand over hers, releasing her grasp of his collar. He took in a slow breath; a heavy breath, and his eyes remained on hers.
"Do you want to be with me?" He asked, humbling himself. "Will you ever want to be with me?"
"What do you mean?" Billie asked. James's gaze didn't waver.
"Blue, I . . . I've never felt that I needed to test you out before I wanted you. I've always wanted you--I still want you." James took a step back. "But you . . . you think I'm some toy; some game for you to try out, that I don't want to play."
"What?"
"Is that what this is?" He brought his hand to his chest. "Because before, we used to get in each other's heads, but it never went this far-- it never got this real for me, and I thought . . . I thought that things were different this time."
"James-,"
"No, no, I thought you wanted to be with me, Blue. I thought that you were finally feeling for me, what I've been feeling for you all these years." He frowned at her. "But I'm still not enough for you."
"Stop!" Billie shouted, but James couldn't.
"No, Blue, I'm tired of this," he said calmly. "I'm tired of wanting you and wanting you and telling you I want you, just for you to decide that you don't want me back. I'm . . . I'm absolutely nuts about you. But it's like you refuse to believe it. And I don't know what else I can do." James crossed his arms over his chest, a shield for himself as he broke his own heart. He thought maybe he could hold it in place; maybe it wouldn't completely shatter again.
Billie hated how tears felt; first they started as a knot in your throat, then they spread to flush your whole face, then they'd spill from your eyes and dry on your cheeks like temporary tattoos. She hated the sensation; and yet, she could feel them beginning to form.
But she refused to let him know, and she refused to let them fall.
"I know that you love me," Billie said; a bombshell. These words shook James; he'd never told her. Suddenly he felt unstable, even as Billie continued to speak. "I've known that you loved me ever since prom." Billie scoffed then. "Remember prom? You know, the dance you never asked me to-,"
"I never got the chance," James stammered. "Taylor-,"
"Asked you before you could get to me," Billie finished. "And you said yes to her because you felt bad, even though you promised me freshman year that we'd go together. And you were too much of a nice guy to hurt her feelings and mine, so you decided not to tell me that you got a date. Remember that part?" She stared at him. "Remember how I got ready and waited for you and Nate and Brooke to come and pick me up? And then you guys never came?"
James looked up at Billie, ashamed of himself. "I apologized for that."
"Yeah . . . yeah, you did," Billie nodded. "You left the dance early because you were having a shitty time without me there. And you came over with a half-pack of Nate's cigarettes in your front pocket and a sorry-ass look on your face." Billie pushed herself off of the counter, onto her feet. She then took steps nearer to James, her heart aching as she recalled the harsh memory. "And you walked up to my door, and you heard my mom screaming at me because I was so pissed off at you--and at her--that I poured every bottle of alcohol we owned down the sink."
James swallowed, his mind back to all of those years ago. He remembered this clearly; how Blue had stumbled out of her front door, only to pause at the sight of him, a giant garbage bag of clinking bottles dragging at her side; snagging on the train of her dress.
Billie smiled at the ground. "We took those bottles to that abandoned house by The Meadows, and smashed every single one of them." She looked up at James again. "And then you apologized for standing me up, and for hurting my feelings, and for toying with my brain for the millionth time, just senior year alone. You saw my shit of a life and my drunk of a mother," Billie blinked away her tears. "And you still came back for me. And you apologized. And you took care of me." Poking her finger into James's chest, she stared at him straight-faced. "I knew that you loved me, that night."
James frowned. "Then why do we keep doing this to each other?" He huffed. "Why can't we just be together already?"
"Because it's not fair for you to expect me to feel the same way for you right away, when you've had more time to fall for me," Billie said back. "James, I just let you in. I just started having these feelings and thoughts and dreams about you. And I like how those things feel; they're why I came here." Billie came close, pulling his arms free. "I want . . . to feel more of you."
As Billie's fingers slid down his arms, James felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up all on their own. Never had Billie been this vulnerable; this open with him. And never once had she admitted to having real feelings for him.
Billie had never been one to tell him her feelings.
But she for damn sure knew how to show them.
It was why she'd broken the bottles that night, instead of venting to him about her mom.
And now, he understood that kiss. He understood why she was so aggressive, so sensual with it. It was why she loved challenges; why she operated off of endorphin highs and bursts of exhilaration. It was why getting information out of her was always a pain in the ass, but being with her wasn't.
Now that Billie knew how she felt about James, she wanted to show him.
Rather than tell him.
And once this clicked in his mind, he immediately regretted everything he'd said.
Billie watched him carefully as all of these thoughts coursed through his brain. The whole time, she hadn't stopped touching him; her hands still on his arms, her eyes still on his face.
The second his gaze returned to hers, she grabbed onto his collar again, pulling his lips right back onto hers. This time, he was ready for her; a fire within him now ignited by her touch. He hoisted her up quickly, their lips reconnecting time and time again as he brought her to the couch and sat with her on his lap. She pawed at him, desiring the touch of his skin. Her palms caressed the surface of his chest beneath his shirt, her hips rolled heavy against his. His hands moved about the thick jean fabric that covered her thighs, slid up her sides, gripped her ass.
Their tongues finally spared each other as James's made its way down her neck; across her collar bones.
And as Billie heaved and smiled and giggled at the sensation, she knew right away,
That this was only the beginning.
