Going for Broke: Oakland Hills Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Friends with Benefits) (14 page)

B
illie’s stomach
turned inside out. “
Mom
?” This was the price of sleeping with the son of her mother’s best friend. “How did she know?” Billie whispered, afraid she might vomit.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you first,” Jane said, rubbing her face with both hands. She stayed there for a moment, a classic posture of grief. Then she looked up. “But I knew you’d always hated Andrew. I wasn’t ready to hear you be happy it was over.”

Jane’s words flowed over Billie like cold rain on a grass fire.

Andrew. She was talking about Andrew.

Thank God
. She felt the tension leaving her body. Her heartbeat began to slow down.

But her relief only proved to her again what a terrible person she was.

“I moved out last night and drove up to Mom’s,” Jane continued. “This house isn’t ready for more clutter. I managed to fit everything except my furniture into the van. I’m going back for that today.”

“You always were a minimalist.”

“Thus the minivan,” Jane said, managing a weak smile.

It was an old joke. Jane didn’t have many possessions, even before she’d read that Japanese book about getting rid of things that didn’t give you continuous multiple orgasms. Yet in spite of this, Jane, who wasn’t married and had no children, didn’t even have a bike or a dog or a Costco membership, had purchased a vehicle that seated eight people. It turned out she didn’t like not having things as much as she liked having lots of empty space around her.

“Sorry I didn’t text you back,” Jane said.

“It’s OK. Of course it’s OK.” Billie spread her arms wide and pulled her sister into a hug.

Her stomach was twisting in circles, over and over. She felt sick.

“We haven’t lived together since high school,” Jane said. “This should be fun.”

Her stomach reached out and invited her intestines to join the dance. “You’re moving in here?”

“Where else would I go? It’s my house too, right?” Jane frowned. “What’s the matter?”

Billie released her to focus on keeping her breakfast down. Since she’d vowed to have no regrets, she’d been looking forward to sleeping with Ian again. Although, to her credit, she had planned on feeling bad about it afterward.

“Let’s sit down,” Billie said. “Have you had lunch? You want some tea?”

“If you’re worried about where I’m going to sleep, relax. I’ve found two guys and a truck who will have my bed here this afternoon.”

“Do you mind if we go into the kitchen?” Billie needed to do something with her hands.

In a few minutes, the kettle was on the stove—Jane had fired up the coffeemaker for herself—and Billie came to a decision.

They’d have to talk about Ian. Not everything, but a few key parts.

Her dirty mind flew to several of her favorite key parts; she told her mind to get a grip.

“Listen, Jane—” she began.

“I’ve got to say, I thought you’d be a lot more cheerful about this. You hated Andrew.”

“
You
hated Andrew.”

Jane’s chin lifted an inch. “I did not.”

“Please. You were always telling me stories about him being controlling and cold and angry about stupid stuff, and you didn’t even like the way he smelled.”

“That was just his deodorant,” Jane said.

“But you hated it, and he refused to change. What kind of guy won’t even change his deodorant for the woman he loves?”

Jane walked over to the coffeemaker, her posture tense. “That’s just it, isn’t it?” Her voice was tight and high-pitched. After she cleared her throat, she turned around, lifting her mug to her mouth. “He didn’t. Love me, that is.”

“Of course he loved you,” Billie said, quickly and fiercely.

Jane’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“He did. He was a pain in the ass, but at least he knew you were the best thing that had ever happened to him.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do,” Billie said. “Because he told me. In his own annoying way.” His exact words had been,
She’s the first person I’ve ever lived with voluntarily.

“What are trying to do? Do you want me to make up with him?” Jane demanded.

Was she?

Oh, this was turning into such a mess.

“No, you should’ve broken up with him a long time ago,” Billie said with a sigh. She poured the water over her tea leaves, inhaled the soothing jasmine scent that wafted up with the steam. “But for the right reasons. You shouldn’t spend the rest of your life thinking he didn’t care about you when he did care for you in his own emotionally constipated way.”

Jane slumped into a chair. “That almost makes it hard to leave him.”

This got them to the edge of the cliff of what they really needed to talk about. Billie sat next to her, her mug in both hands, its heat and familiar shape giving her strength. “Does this have anything to do with seeing Ian again?”

Jane didn’t speak. The silence swelled between them, making Billie feel as if they were now sitting on opposite sides of the room instead of two feet apart.

“No,” Jane said finally.

And then the silence returned.

“You don’t sound sure,” Billie said.

Another pause. “I’m sure.”

This was worse than she’d feared. She’d expected Jane to deny it passionately right away. Be furious, in fact, with Billie for suggesting it.

“You keep hesitating,” Billie said.

“I’m just thinking, that’s all.”

“But if you have to think about it—”

“I don’t have to think about it!” Jane got up and went over to pour more coffee into her cup, even though she had only taken a sip.

At that moment, Billie knew she couldn’t sleep with Ian again. The thought made her feel hollow, like an empty IKEA warehouse. And cold, the kind of cold that tea couldn’t touch.

She tried to tell herself it was just the lack of sleep, the sex hangover, the dread of returning to work tomorrow, but her eyes began to tingle.

Ridiculous. Crazy. Stupid. She shifted in her seat and pretended to brush her hair back, when really she was wiping a betraying tear off her cheek.

“Oh, Billie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” Jane’s arms came around her from the back. “I’m just such a mess. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Her apology only made Billie feel worse. More tears came. Sniffing, she fought them off. “I have to tell you something.”

B
illie felt
the calm that she imagined would precede any suicidal but courageous act. Turning in her seat, she pulled Jane down into the other chair and clasped her hands. “You need to know something before you move in with me.” She took a deep breath, realizing she could be bigger than that. “And if you want me to move out, I’ll understand.”

“Oh my God,” Jane said. “You slept with Andrew.”

Billie recoiled. “Ew, no!” she cried, making a face. “I could never do that.”

Jane’s eyes narrowed. “Thanks so much for that comment on my taste.”

“I only mean—Andrew—me—come on, that’s just—” Billie stopped before she dug the hole any deeper.

“Well, that is some comfort, I suppose. You’re acting so strange.”

“It’s…” Billie grasped at the deadly courage again. “It’s about… Ian.”

With a loud exhale, Jane rolled her eyes. “Him again.”

“I don’t think it’s really a coincidence you broke up with your boyfriend just a few days after you saw Ian Cooper.”

Jane shook her head. “I’ve seen him lots of times over the years. Unfortunately.”

“But you never talk. Like you did when you went for a walk,” Billie said.

“So we talked. Why should that bother you? What are you afraid of?”

Billie started to chew on a hangnail, caught herself, and shoved her hand in her lap. Hiding things from Jane made her feel sick. But bringing them into the open might kill her.

She could ease into it, though, and take it step by step.

“I’m afraid of you getting hurt,” Billie said. “Because you want Ian. Because you’re not over him.”

There. She’d said it. Half of it, anyway.

Jane stared. “Is that what you think?”

Billie nodded. Her digestive system wasn’t feeling any better than it had earlier. Her stomach and intestines had stopped waltzing and were now doing the cha-cha.

“Ian can’t hurt me,” Jane said.

“He’s brilliant, rich, gorgeous, and nice. He visits his mother regularly. He visits
our
mother regularly. Of course he can hurt you,” Billie said. “Much more than Andrew ever could.”

Jane shook her head. “That is not true.”

“Why else have you needed to avoid him all these years? You’re not afraid of anybody, but Ian, oh no, better not be in the same state as that guy.”

“I had no idea you were suffering from such delusions,” Jane said.

“You always use big words when you’re trying to hide your feelings.”

“I use big words when I’m annoyed,” Jane said, “and you’re annoying me.”

“Why did you break up with Andrew, then? Huh?” Billie put her hands on the table and leaned back, eyes wide as she nodded knowingly.

“Because he slept with his dentist.”

Billie stopped nodding. Her mind took a moment to regroup. “What?”

“And my dentist, actually.”

“
Both
of them?”

Jane closed her eyes briefly. “Same woman.”

“Oh, you mean she’s your dentist too.”

“Not anymore,” Jane said.

“Yeah, good call.”

“Thanks.” Jane looked over at the fridge. “Any more of the cream cheese left?”

Still reeling, Billie got up and went over to get it. Seeing the leftover Indian food from last night, she started to offer that instead and then changed her mind, feeling that offering the postcoital-meal leftovers to Jane would be somehow tawdry.

Instead, she dropped the cream cheese tub in front of Jane and balanced a spoon on the lid. “Want it straight or should I get you a cracker?”

“This is fine.” Jane popped it open. “I thought Mom would tell you about the dentist.”

“No.” Billie went over to get herself the crackers. “I actually didn’t talk to Mom.”

“Then how did you know about me leaving Andrew?”

“I didn’t. I thought you were upset about—” Oh, damn. “About Ian.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

Billie peeked at her over her shoulder. “Have I?”

“Yes, you definitely have, and I’ve got to say I’m not surprised. It’s worse than I thought. You’re obsessed with him.”

“Oh,
I’m
the one,” Billie said.

“Obviously.”

Billie didn’t think she was. It was just sex again. The way his distressed jeans strained across his muscular thighs should’ve been illegal. And then he rode in to her rescue wielding a band saw and a crowbar. Her inability to say no was a familiar problem, but it was biological, not emotional. And she wasn’t the only woman to have this problem.

She looked Jane right in the eye. “Be honest. It wasn’t just the dentists—”

“Only one dentist.”

Billie shook off the interruption. “It wasn’t just Andrew cheating. Something about seeing Ian triggered your moving out all of a sudden. If you’d planned it carefully, you would’ve told me about it.”

Jane sighed, rolling her eyes. “Fine. Maybe. But only indirectly.”

“The contrast between them was so stark.” That was easy to imagine. How could any woman keep sleeping with Andrew after being reminded of Ian Cooper walking the earth?

“It wasn’t the contrast. God, you’re so predictable.” Jane leaned forward and grabbed Billie’s hand. “And that, my baby sister,
that
is why I’m so glad I’m here where I can protect you from yourself. From
him
.”

Billie stared.

“Look at you,” Jane continued. “You don’t even realize how infatuated you are.”

“With Ian?”

“Of course with Ian!”

“You thought I might’ve slept with Andrew a second ago,” Billie said.

“Only because you had that look.”

“Look?”

“The one you get when you’ve slept with somebody and you feel bad about it.”

Billie felt herself flush. She pulled her hands free and looked down, folding back the cardboard lid to get a cracker she didn’t want. She hated to think she had a particular look for that. “That kind of hurts my feelings.”

“Oh, Bill, I’m sorry.” Jane leaned forward and put her arms around her. “I’m just worried about you.”

“And I’m worried about
you
.”

“That’s how it works,” Jane said, pulling back, smiling. “We worry about each other.”

Billie played with the cracker but didn’t eat it. “I did sleep with somebody,” she said softly.

A spoonful of cream cheese halfway to her mouth, Jane froze.

“And I felt bad about it because I thought it would hurt you,” Billie continued. She broke the cracker into two pieces, stacked them on top of each other, broke them into four.

“But why would—who was it—”

Billie built a cracker skyscraper on her palm. “I did it even though I thought you still might be in love with him.” She bit her lip to keep it from quivering.

“Holy shit.” Jane lowered the spoon.

Billie finally looked up. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“Don’t apologize to
me.
”

Billie felt like shrinking into a ball and hiding inside the box with the crackers. “Thanks a lot. I’m pretty good in bed. I don’t think I have to apologize to him for anything.”

Jane choked out a laugh. “Jesus, Bill. I meant
you
. You owe
yourself
an apology. For giving more than you get. Again.”

Billie stuck the crumbling stack of crackers into her mouth and glanced at the ceiling, not wanting to elaborate on all the ways Ian had given her
plenty
. She could only imagine how much more he could’ve managed with a larger mattress.

“When did this happen?” Jane asked.

Billie pulled out another cracker and began the procedure of snapping them into pieces again. Now that she’d confessed for apparently no good reason, she didn’t feel like talking anymore.

Jane sighed. “Never mind. It was obviously last night. We were together all day yesterday. I would’ve known.” Jane reached out and clasped her hand. “Well, what’s done is done. I’m here now.”

“You’re really not jealous?”

Pity. Jane had pity in her eyes. “When it comes to Ian, it’s been there, done that. We weren’t compatible sexually.”

More vividly than ever before, Billie was able to picture Ian in bed with Jane, and she really didn’t like it. “Ew.”

“I’d rather go back to Andrew,” Jane said.

“Double ew.”

“But I won’t.” Jane got to her feet, patted Billie on the hand, and stretched, groaning softly. “That couch in Mom’s sewing room really sucks. I can’t wait until I can sleep in my own bed again.”

Facing the realization that her sister was moving in, Billie’s brain launched a fantasy of sleeping in somebody else’s bed. In a loft in Emeryville, actually. Somebody her sister wasn’t, it turned out, in love with.

“This is just what we both need,” Jane said, patting her again, this time on the shoulder. “I need to get over Andrew, you need to get over Ian. We’ll help each other through it.”

“I don’t need to get over Ian.”

“That’s the addiction talking,” Jane said. “If you didn’t have a problem with him, you never would’ve slept with him.”

“But that makes no sense!”

Jane gave her a sad smile. “It does to me. Which is exactly why I’m going to keep you away from him.”