Billy Jeffers: Rockers of Steel (16 page)

“I’m serious. This is not something—”

“Is that where you went last night?” she asks.

“What?” I gasp.

“You left last night.”

“I was at the bar.”

She doesn’t say anything. I should just leave it at that, but I can’t.

“How the hell could you think I would even consider sex with a minor?”

She still says nothing, which completely pisses me off.

“Answer me, dammit!”

“You should have logged out of Facebook!”

“You shouldn’t have been such a nosey, little brat!” I yell back.

A horn sounds loudly as a car races by, and I grab the wheel when I notice we are straddling the line.

“Pull the fuck over at the next stop.”

“No!” she fucking screams at me.

“Now is not the fucking time to flip out. You’re on a four lane fucking highway.”

I then say nothing, do nothing except keep my damn mouth shut, because all I want to do is spank her ass or fuck her, and neither is appropriate.

She does pull over at the next rest stop, and she promptly gets out. She walks to the building and slides into the women’s bathroom. I get out with the keys and use the men’s.

She isn’t going to let this fucking go. She isn’t, so I have to make her, or I have to trust her, with just how much Penelope means to me.

I wait for her at a little picnic table, and when she finally comes out, her eyes are red. Once I motion her to me, she takes in a deep breath and half-stomps toward me. She looks beautifully pissed off.

“Did you have a good cry?”

“Fuck you!” she snaps.

“I’m asking a legitimate question. It’s either that or you smoked something in there.”

She glares. “Are you trying to be funny?”

I take one deep breath and roll my neck. “I have known her all her life, but it is not what you think, and I do not want to talk about it. I would love for you to leave it alone.”

Her hands immediately rest on her hips. “Fine.”

“What does
fine
mean? Fine, I believe you’re not a fucking pedophile; fine, I will never bring her up again; or fine, I’m gonna lie to your face and go behind your back?”

“You are unbelievable,” she whispers as someone walks by.

“Meaning?”

Her eyes open wider. “If it’s no big deal, then why can’t you tell me?”

“It’s a very big deal, and I don’t want to talk about it. Regardless, there are no romantic thoughts in my head or anywhere else in my body for Penelope.”

She shrugs. “I’m pretty sure there isn’t for anyone.”

“You’re right.” I start to get up, and she shakes her head and looks down. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“The words you’re looking for are sorry.”

“Are they?”

“I’m pretty sure they are. I’d hope my character speaks for itself, even after what you witnessed this weekend.”

“I’ll say sorry when I get an answer.” She spins on her strappy, little heels and turns around. Then she looks over her shoulder. “And BTW, what I witnessed this weekend doesn’t change my opinion of your character. You’re still an asshole.” Then she walks away, storming to the vehicle and getting in the driver’s side.

When I get to it, I open the door. “I’m driving.”

“No way. I’d like to get home sometime this century.”

“You almost killed us,” I say, pointing to the passenger side.

“You have too much on your mind to be—”

To shut her argumentative mouth, I grab the back of her head and pull her toward me, fully intent on kissing her silent. Soft, sweet, and teeth, she bites my lip, and not in a fucking good way.

I grip the back of her hair more firmly, and she whimpers then opens her mouth to me. I let go of her hair and turn her legs toward me. Her hands knot in my hair, and her tongue plunges into my mouth. I cup her little peach of an ass, squeezing it hard as I lift her up, pull her to me, walk around the car, open the door, and deposit her ass in the passenger seat.

I attempt to step back, but she doesn’t let go of my hair.

“Tell me.”

“Let it go.”

“No.”

“Dammit, Madison, leave it alone! Stop being fucking jealous.”

“I’m not jealous, asshole.”

“No?” I ask, now a bit pissed off and wanting to make her that way, too.

“I was, but now I’m pissed you don’t trust me.”

“I trust you. I kind of have to,” I say as she leans in and kisses me.

Her hand leaves my hair, and she grabs my raging hard-on. “Tell me. Trust me.”

I really have no fucking choice. She won’t stop until she gets what she wants because she is Madison Black, and she has hold of my dick.

“My parents gave her up for adoption when I was seven.”

Her face falls as does my heart. I have never said it out loud. It was something never discussed, yet it was in my face for as long as I can remember.

“Why?” she asks, confused.

“They chose me,” I say, feeling the same shame I have always felt.

“Okay.” She releases my dick and grabs my face. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I pushed.”

I feel her fingers rubbing under my eyes and realize my face is wet. I pull back in terror and feel my face. Men don’t cry.
I
don’t cry.

“It’s okay.” She pulls me into a hug. “It’s okay.”

“Fuck,” I growl as she pulls my head against her neck.

After a few moments of her rubbing my back and me trying to understand how the fuck that happened—how the fuck I let loose emotions bottled up for an entire lifetime—I pull back and kiss the top of her head.

“You must think I’m a bitch.” I shake my head because it’s completely unbelievable.

“Four tears don’t make you a bitch, Billy,” she says sadly.

“Yeah, well …” I shrug.

“Kiss me?” she asks as if she can’t think of anything else to say.

I oblige since there isn’t anything else I want to do right now other than take my mind off the emotional shit-storm that just happened.

His kisses are urgent and hungry. I pull away when I feel like I am teetering on the brink of losing control—well, that and a car beeping as it pulls out of the rest stop.

“I’m driving,” he says, and I shake my head. “I have no idea why I let you drive before, but that’s not happening again.”

“You sure you’re okay?” I ask, looking over as he gets in and adjusts himself.

“No,” he replies as he adjusts the seat.

“What can I do to help?”

He catches me looking at his bulge and gives me a look like a parent would give to a disobedient child.

“I wasn’t suggesting—”

“Right.” He sighs. “Look, I need to make sure you can give me a week before saying anything.”

“Take as much time as you need. Let me know what you want me to do. I’m here for you.”

“You honestly didn’t have a choice, did you?”

“I could have left.”
But I couldn’t leave you when I finally saw… you
.

“Look, I have put you in a very difficult situation here. I had to make a choice between you and Memphis, and I chose you.”

“That’s good, because you’re not his type,” I whisper.

He shakes his head as he looks out of the corner of his eye at me. “They are gonna be so pissed off at me.”

“I’ve said it before, and I will say it again: you did nothing wrong.”

“He’s my father.”

“I know, but he is not
you
. Look at Finn’s mother, my father, River’s—”

“Madison, I appreciate you trying to make me feel better, but this is me. I have walked the straight and narrow, taken pride in how hard I have worked, have—”

“I understand that, but we’re all human. Is any sin different: lying, cheating, stealing, killing? I mean, a sin is a sin; no one is better or worse. And you haven’t committed any crimes, Billy. You tried to help them.”

He sighs loudly and focuses straight ahead. “They gave her up for me; that’s what I have felt all my life. They wanted to make sure I had the best of everything and the best chance of a successful future. She was adopted by friends in my parents’ social circle whom I assumed couldn’t have children because she had no siblings, either. Her adoptive parents died in a car accident.

“The first time I ever saw her was at their service. I didn’t know who she was, not until much later. The house my parents just bought was the one she was raised in after they died, her grandparents’ house. How fucked up is that? I mean, why would they do that?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, wishing I could give him an answer or some words of comfort for something that makes no sense at all.

“I have done everything I can to make them proud, to validate their choice, to thank them for giving me the opportunities I have had. But if they had asked me back then, if I’d had a choice in the matter, I would never have chosen to give away a child, never.”

I reach over and hold the hand that is fisted on his lap, and he immediately opens his hand and links our fingers.

“God, Madison, Memphis is gonna be so pissed at me. First my old man fucks him, and then I fuck you. What the hell was I thinking?”

“You were drunk?”

“Not a good enough excuse.”

“You’ve secretly wanted me from the time you saw me?”

He sighs. “I’ve secretly wanted to spank your ass for being a pain in mine.”

“I totally understand.” I’ve not so secretly wanted to arouse any feeling I could from him.

“You do?” He glances up at me.

“I’ve made things … hard for you.”

He nods. “That, you have.”

I don’t want to push him anymore. It is difficult for a man to open up. For a man like Billy, it’s nearly impossible.

“Would you like me to turn on some music?”

“Sure,” he answers.

“Pick your poison,” I say, hitting the power button.

“Surprise me.” He sighs, seeming more relaxed.

Roses
by Chainsmokers fills the vehicle.

‘Say you’ll never let me go’
repeats, and I know it’s just a song, but damn if I don’t want that with him. To be honest, I want that with him more than I ever did before.

When he doesn’t complain, I sit back, still holding his hand as he drives nine miles per hour over the speed limit.

Half an hour later, he lets go of my hand as he pulls off at an exit and into a gas station. He parks on the side of the building, turns, and looks at me.

“We shouldn’t see each other. I don’t want any of this to come back on you, not with the band, the other investors, or with the police if it comes to that.”

“It’s too late for that.” I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the vehicle. I can’t do this with him. I need to walk away before it becomes a fight; me fighting for him, him fighting against us. “I need to use the bathroom.”

When I come out, he is pacing behind the vehicle.

“What took you so long?” He almost snaps.

“Do you want a fight, Billy? Is that what you want?”

“No, I want the next half-hour in the vehicle to be pleasant. And I wanna know that, when I drop you off, I don’t have to worry about you meddling or getting pissed off and saying something that can’t be unsaid. I wanna know you’ll give me ample time to see if there is any way to fix this.”

“Fine,” I say even though I am pretty sure I have already agreed to all of this.

“Promise?”

I nod. “Yes.”

When I get in the vehicle, there is an iced coffee and a hotdog wrapped in foil sitting on the console.

“You spoil me, Billy.” I bat my eyelashes at him.

“There wasn’t much to choose from.”

“Promise me something?” If I am going to back away when I know there is something good between us, I needed to make sure I had the opportunity to get it back.

“I will try,” he answers suspiciously.

“When this is all over and done with, and you feel like you can breathe, you owe me a date.”

“That’s not what we are,” he answers as he pulls onto the street.

“I’m not confusing anything between us, but it has been a very long time since a boy has taken me out.”

“How long?”

The way he asks makes me smile on the inside. He seems annoyed. And as much satisfaction as it gives me after all the cherub hating, I decide to tell him about my dating history.

“Have you ever heard the term fag-hag?”

He narrows his eyes and nods.

“Well, have I got a story for you … if you wanna hear it.”

“I think we have time,” he replies like it’s no big deal.

“My elementary school crush, Joey, was the boy everyone wanted. I made sure I had him first.”

His jaw drops. “You had sex in elementary school?”

“No.” I chuckle. “I kissed him, and then he moved away.”

He smirks and shakes his head.

“In high school, my crush was Bones. He was a six-foot tall jock and extremely into me. Best boyfriend ever. He loved to shop with me, held my hand, took me to dinner all the time, bought me clothes, makeup, jewelry, and never pressured me into having sex. At prom, I wanted to lose the V card. He wasn’t able to rise to the challenge.” I snicker.

“Are you kidding me?” Billy asks.

“He said he had drunk too much. Then he started avoiding alone time. That’s when I learned the art of the tease.”

“Is it now?”

“His best friend Timmy noticed, and we made out at the end of year party. Bones caught us and came to life. He pulled me away from him, hit poor Timmy in the face, and then kissed me with more passion than I had ever felt from him before. I got a rise out of him that day.”