We’re headed back, Renie texted her mom.
Have you eaten?
No.
Ben’s making breakfast.
Billy’s with me.
I know.
“You’re invited for breakfast,” Renie said, putting her phone in her pocket.
Billy looked out the window and shook his head. “I’m nervous.”
“I am, too.”
“Why are you nervous?”
“Why are you?”
“I love that about you.”
“What?”
“How you answer a question with a question.”
“I don’t do that.”
“You always do that.”
“Do I sometimes get a look on my face like I’ve eaten something sour?”
Billy laughed. “Yep, you do that too.”
“What else do I do?”
“Let’s see. You sit on your hands when you’re nervous.” She stuck her hands in her pockets.
“You talk in your sleep.”
Uh oh. “What do I talk about?”
“Not much I can decipher. Although I’ve always been able to understand it when you say my name.” Billy took her hand. He brought it up to his lips and kissed across her knuckles.
He grinned. “I love how it sounds when you’re all sleepy, and you moan a little. Makes me hard as a rock when I hear it.”
“What else?”
“That you do?”
“Yeah.”
They weren’t all the way to Ben’s house, but Billy pulled the truck over anyway.
“You’re not very good at sharing.”
“Are you saying that because it suits your purpose, or am I really not good at sharing?”