i'm not leaving, just feel tightly squeezed

Laurie was warm. Maybe the wine had warmed her too, but it wasn’t just that. It had never just been that. The drinks were nothing compared to the warmth that came from Billie, from the overall effect the mechanic had on her. The effect from her hands, her mouth, and her words all in one. It had been so unrushed, that night’s intimacy, however long they had been desperately tangled together before. Sure, there might have been a few rounds that were a little faster than others, but attentive nonetheless.

Not that Billie wasn’t always attentive to her. But that night had felt a little more attuned, and the praises whispered in her ear had hit a little deeper.

Billie laid back down on her, Laurie just offering another mumbled mmm at her name. They were both weary, naturally tired from the night’s activities, and she already had a feeling that she might be sleeping in late come morning. Thanks. The blonde almost offered a joke that would’ve been about said sex, but Billie glanced up at her again and continued. I really do like being here with you.

A pause to mull over that soft sincerity, Laurie’s gaze shifting over Billie’s face in the dark room. Her heart beat quickened, something that her mechanic probably felt instantly. She released a breathy laugh and turned her head a little more onto the pillow again, glancing toward the window. “Yeah, well… you should,” she remarked with a small smile. “It’s here or out there.” In a snowstorm, which Billie had previously been in hours ago.

"Thank you for coming here with me today," Angelo tells his little sister with a wide smile. "I always enjoy supporting new business owners, especially when they're local and not ... well... the Sinclairs." Well, the Sinclairs are technically more local, he relents with a grimace. "Maybe I mean especially when they're everyday individuals... or ideally even good people." Angelo can't help his chuckle. "I'm sorry, I'm struggling with my words today. But... What better place to struggle with words than a bookstore?" he teases.

"As long as you believe in it, Kay..." She lifted her hand and wrapped it around Kayla's. "And as one of those drunks you've corralled, you saved my ass." Billie eased back a little and looked at her sister. "I know you could do whatever you put your mind to, because you're the strongest woman I know. Well, you and mom. So, fuck that lady. She doesn't know shit."

Laurie wasn’t sure what the time was. Surely past midnight, at least. Her curtains were half drawn, parts of the snowstorm still visible and heard, some shadows from it even cast into the bedroom. The town was still in the midst of the blizzard, pretty much, people probably still posting all about it on social media. The model and the mechanic hadn’t been paying attention to any of that. Honestly, there was probably a good amount of time during the night’s intimacy that Laurie forgot there was a blizzard all together. The sounds of the snowstorm managed to be blocked out by the sounds of the two women anyway.

The nightstand lamp had been turned off, and really only the outside lighting of the apartment building gave any illumination for the room. But they both had grown used to that bedroom enough to know where things were even in the dark. If Billie could figure out where bowls and glasses were in her kitchen, the bedroom was surely easier. To the point that it felt… normal and easy, a familiarity that had lingered since the holidays.

Billie could feel the weight of weariness seeping into her muscles, but her brain wasn't yet overcome with the demand of sleep. Truthfully, she just felt relaxed enough to not really do anything except be. Nowhere to be. Nothing to fix right there and then. Just a feeling of existing in the other's arms and the sensation of Laurie's fingers running through her hair. She knew her hair was probably a mess, mussed from Laurie's hands and everything else they'd done, but if she'd had the energy to care, it would have been wiped completely by the scratch of nails against her scalp.

"Definitely better than a blizzard." She whispered, humming quietly before she let out a breathy laugh. Her eyes opened slowly and slipped to the half-drawn curtains. It was hard to even remember how the day had led her here. That part was all a fuzzy blur, like looking through a snow flurry, but the thoughts of Laurie were clear. The laughter on the couch. The exchange of words by the sink. The clear trust they shared in moments of peace and chaos. The thought at the very back of her mind that maybe this meant something neither of them had vocalised or dared to think too much about.

If Billie thought about it too deeply, maybe the hope would take hold again.

He nodded at the question. "Oh, absolutely! I'd love to host local artists and writers whenever possible. But I can also pull a few strings, see about getting some bigger names to come by for book signings, Q&As. And then I was considering doing more community based events. Craft nights, readings for the little ones. If you ever have any ideas I'm all ears."

Sophia's eyes widened as Edgar divulged his plans. "Bigger names? You got some celebrities on speed dial?" She teased before resting her chin on top of her hands. "You know I'm sold at craft nights, but if you ever want a willing reader for the little ones, you know where to find me."

Yes, Laurie’s bedroom being Billie’s favorite room was very casual. It couldn’t be more casual. And it was also casual that the green sweatshirt was currently laying across the back of a desk chair too in the corner. But the only furniture piece that was focused on was the bed. Laurie was laid down on the mattress, letting out a soft little noise whenever lips hit her neck quickly after. It felt like her thighs were already starting to shake a little from Billie’s grip. And that comment near Laurie’s ear made her shiver. God, her eyes almost rolled back just from that.

Dilated pupils were on display just as Billie’s skin was after the shirt was discarded, Laurie’s stare darting all over the woman above her. Her hands traced all up Billie’s arms, gripping her shoulders, all while her gaze mapped the tattoos too. It was almost like a ridiculous yearning to touch in whatever way. As if Laurie might just die if she didn’t.

Do you want me to touch you, Laur?

[ however long later. time is a construct, especially in a warm bed in a blizzard ]

Billie wasn't sure how long she'd had her eyes closed. Five minutes or five hours could have slipped by in a blissful haze, and she was none the wiser. The whole world could have been buried under fifty feet of snow, and it would have taken every ounce of her will to drag herself away from the feeling of Laurie Sinclair's body beneath her own.

The mechanic didn't even know how long it had been since they'd first fallen down onto the mattress. Laurie had consumed every one of her senses, and as her mind flittered through the sounds and touches and memory of Laurie's dizzyingly beautiful smile, Billie grinned. She breathed out quietly, fingers drawing delicate shapes with steady hands along the soft shape of Laurie's waist.

Her heart quickened just a little as she thought about how Laurie's body had moved and reacted beneath her hands. Her ragged breathing and trembling legs. Fingers laced in her own as Laurie fell apart with passionate enthusiasm and Billie's reassurance. Heated words that had made Billie pull harder and grow even more confident. Fuck, it had felt normal and easy and so fucking good. Every part.

Laurie was already starting to lose her mind with Billie’s hands against her hips, as if that were just a sneak peak of what was to come. Blue eyes shifted over each part of Billie’s mouth, watching as the brunette bit her lower lip. Fuck. And the blonde, only steadily growing hotter and more bothered, ended up being the replacement for that. She smirked as she leaned up and gently bit Billie’s lower lip herself, tugging playfully. She finally let go, but kept their lips brushing against each other.

Whatever was happening on the television screen across the space was of no concern at the moment. Laurie’s guilty pleasure didn’t really hold a candle to the pleasure she was wanting now.

“I don’t care about the fucking show,” Laurie said in a breathy laugh, pressing her lips to her mechanic’s again. Fuck. “Billie…” She wasn’t sure if it was a split second or several seconds that passed by before there was more deliberate movement. She let out a soft gasp as she was lifted by a sturdy grip, the movement quite familiar but more sudden than when she was previously sitting on the island.

Billie's eyes rolled back on multiple occasions in a very short space of time as the heat grew between them. It was struggle enough to swallow down her breathy groan as Laurie bit her lower lip, let alone keep control on her composure. The kisses had every nerve ending in her body starting to feel like it was on fire. Not that it was an unfamiliar feeling by now. No, Billie was no stranger to just how fucking hot the other was (in moments like these and always) and once her hands got onto Billie's body... there was no turning back.

Billie. Her eyes rolled all over again at the breathy sound of her name, and she quickly closed any frustrating space between them, placed her hands firmly under Laurie's bare thighs and lifted her up. Sure, maybe there was an understanding that this was casual (not that either of them had addressed it), but was casual supposed to have patterns? Familiarity? Were they supposed to smile and laugh against the other's lips the way they did?

She made a soft noise as a shiver travelled down her spine at the feeling of nails at the back of her neck, but it only caused a slight falter in her step as she moved them toward the bedroom. Every other step was punctuated with a kiss. Soft. Sweet. Firm. Full of need. Against her lips. Her cheek. Her neck.

The moment she crossed the doorway to Laurie's bedroom, she felt a rush of something new add to the layers of warmth already burning inside her. This room was her favourite, and yes, having a favourite room in Laurie's apartment was also very casual. She liked looking at all the details of it in the morning light with Laurie's soft breathing so close. Gazing into the ridiculous closet stacked with so many clothes it had actually made her gasp. Being genuinely intrigued by all the fancy fucking lotions and bottles and make-up. How could she not want to appreciate all the little things that came together to build a picture of the woman currently in her arms?

Billie remained flush against Laurie's body as she lowered them down onto the bed, shifting her lips from her mouth to her neck. Her hands ran lightly along the outside of her thighs before slipping upward over her hips, bunching up the fabric of Laurie's baggy shirt around her forearms to expose her stomach. "Your skin is always ridiculously soft." She whispered, half breathy confession and half gentle laugh against Laurie's ear.

There was a cumulation of moments that had kept building. Laurie telling her to get into the car, the tension of the bar bathroom, the road trip along the coast, the towering lighthouse, the nights spent tangled in each other’s arms, and the teasing banter that had become effortlessly and common. The sound of Billie’s voice, soft and sincere, and the feel of her hands, secure and intentional. Any act of intimacy with Billie – touching a hand, sharing a blanket, laughing at dumb reality TV, or even tangled together in heat – felt almost revolutionary to a girl who craved attention but had never really known attention quite like this.

Laurie remembered family dinners where laughter had been carefully measured, where compliments had been conditional, where failure had been magnified and success barely acknowledged. The air tended to feel heavy, common attributes that had been the norm. And there she was, under the warm glow of her apartment lights, feeling a little lighter with steady arms around her while simultaneously craving more.

Billie gave her more. The initial kiss was gentle, almost startlingly so, a contrast to that first one back in the auto shop in November. Gentle enough that it made the blonde shiver for a second. Laurie’s eyes fluttered shut, a breathless sound escaping her throat as she kissed Billie back. It had only been, what, a week or so since the last time they were doing this? Since the last time any space fully disappeared? But each physical reunion sometimes made it feel like the waiting had been much longer.

[ continued under read more ]

Billie had never been in a rush to have her first kiss when she was growing up. She didn't really have friends who were going through the motions of being a 'normal' teenager (truthfully, she hadn't really had friends at all), so she'd never thought about it. Sure, girls whispered about parties and make-out spots and hot boys a few seats over in school or in the locker room out of the earshot of teachers, but she already knew she wasn't like them. Not just because she cared more about boat motors and derailleurs than her male peers, but because the idea of kissing someone... the idea of hands on her body in some of the ways they described... well, it had sounded bad.

Even as she'd started hearing stories from her sister, it had just always sounded overwhelming. She'd blushed like no one's business too, but it just didn't sound... good. And if it didn't sound good, why would it feel good? She hadn't been that surprised when being with someone for the first time had left her feeling off. The second time had been no different. And then she'd just resigned herself to the reality that it wasn't her. That there was a very real chance she didn't need that in her life... and that was okay.

Laurie had rewritten her experiences completely. When Laurie had kissed her for the first time, it had felt... better. When Laurie had kissed her the second time and every time after that, it had felt... fucking good. When Laurie kissed her back right there against her kitchen sink, it felt right and great and gratifying and dizzying and warm. Like maybe those girls who had chattered so animatedly about how nice it was to kiss someone had been describing this all along.

[ continued under read more ]

Somehow the evening went from a laughter fest of reality television to this. Now, they were standing so close that their bodies almost molded together in that damn kitchen. The world felt quieter, reduced to the space between them, and the warmth that was rising through her entire body. Especially when fingers softly caressed her scalp and then a forehead touched hers. All of those gentle acts could’ve happened in a few seconds or a few minutes. Time had kind of blurred ever since the two of them first got comfy on that couch.

Laurie wasn’t sure how to respond then, at least not with words. She just breathed softly, her blue gaze shifting to the curve of Billie’s lips. The need for more contact was gnawing at her again. And it was like her mind was read without her even having to vocalize any desire.

Would it be okay if I kissed you?

Billie was asking, wanting to be sure, not wanting to overstep due to the emotionality of the last few minutes. It was considerate and patient, which were just a few common words that only scraped the surface of Billie’s nature. But the gentleness of such a question might have made it seem like this would be the first time they had ever kissed at all. As if nothing physical had occurred during the last few months. As if they hadn’t had long, wild nights where they could barely let go of one another.

Billie could still remember the rush that had gone through her the first time Laurie pulled her into a messy and desperate kiss. She'd been holding her by the collar just like she was right there in the kitchen. Just like she had so many times since. It might have been ridiculous, but Billie was pretty confident that day and night had been one of the best of her entire year. Maybe even one of the best of her adult life.

Sure, the hook-up on the couch had been clumsy, and Billie had been so fucking nervous about so many things (beyond scratching the Porsche), but after Laurie had told her to get in the car... well, the rush just hadn't stopped. Not just because she liked fast cars. No, she liked Laurie a whole fucking lot too. Liked her more each time they'd hung out or texted or called.

As Laurie's words brushed against her lips, Billie let out a breathy laugh. All night, she'd had thoughts about getting this close. Every time she saw Laurie, she was pretty sure something deep in her chest wanted to be close. It was more than just a craving for the physical... it felt intimate. And even if she could grow to be someone that prioritised and understood physical touch, she'd never thought she would be someone that craved intimacy.

Please.

She craved it with Laurie a whole fucking lot.

It was not messy or desperate as she closed the minimal space between them, pressing her lips gently against Laurie's. Her lips curved into a smile, and her skin flooded with warmth. Yeah, she liked this a whole fucking lot.

And now her hands were fucking shaking due to pulling away. It had been a choice that might have hurt Billie, but it sure was hurting Laurie too even if she had tried to push the feeling out. Regardless, it was merely a reminder of how stupid and ridiculous she was, how maybe every choice made in life meant both gaining and losing something in the process, however big or small. And she wasn’t sure if reservation or regret was clinging to her harder now.

Laurie grabbed the dish soap and a little pink sponge, trying to block out the sound of footsteps gradually getting louder, approaching her location. Then there was a presence right behind her, her grip on the sponge tightening enough for some excess water to drip out.

You don’t have to say sorry. Words Laurie couldn’t remember ever hearing before. Not really. From the outside looking in, she flaunted confidence and vanity in a non-apologetic manner, acting like how one would imagine a rich girl to act. But behind the scenes, she apologized a lot. She would say sorry when she was late to an event. She would say sorry when she misplaced something. She would say sorry if she didn’t stand up straight enough. She would say sorry even if something wasn’t really her fault at all.

Laurie gave a small shake of her head as if she disagreed, memories of years of experience with apologies still sunk deep in her mind. Then arms looped around her from behind, one arm around her waist and the other across her chest. Laurie’s inhale was shaky, but the exhale was longer, like Billie’s hold managed to carry some of the heaviness. The sponge slipped from her fingers, quietly plopping into the sink. Laurie’s hand hesitantly rose to grasp the forearm that was hooked over her chest.

When you just try and... act like it doesn't matter or like you did something wrong.

“What else can I fucking do?” Laurie quietly countered with a dry laugh, though no expression of humor reached her eyes at all. Maybe after years of first-hand experience, she couldn’t really imagine there being a better way. It wasn’t like anything would change. She stared down at the sink where some soapy suds still trickled down the sides of the wine glasses. The ringing in her ears was returning and she shut her eyes again, her other hand gripping the edge of the counter.

She finally turned around in Billie’s arms, and facing her made the closeness feel even more noticeable and loud. Her heart beat increased a lot just by the eye-contact alone. She shook her head, a quiet fuck murmured under her breath again. She swayed a little, gripping Billie’s collar, either to anchor her upright or because she was itching for contact again. It was probably just both.

But if Billie could be respite from that, wouldn't that matter too? If Billie could do and say and be things that contrasted the pressure and the expectation and the endless need to be on all the damn time. As long as Laurie knew she never had to fake anything maybe that was the most Billie could do... at least for now.

"You know that I'll always just tell you to do what you want." She whispered, breathing in shallowly at the feeling of Laurie's fingers closing around her arm. "But I know that's not realistic. I can't just say it, but I do mean it. I know I don't really... well... I haven't felt the things you've felt." Her face pressed a little further into Laurie's neck, holding her as close as she possibly could.

Billie's hold relaxed enough to allow Laurie to turn around in her arms. Just like that, Laurie was right there with her pretty blue eyes and all the beautiful features Billie had spent hours admiring. Fuck. She blinked slowly and glanced quickly at the hand on her collarbone as Laurie swayed slightly. Her hands pressed a little more firmly against her.

You’re ridiculous. Billie couldn't stop the affectionate smile that spread over her lips. And you left your phone too—you’re ridiculous. You’re not stupid... ridiculous and absurd, maybe. She'd heard it before, but she'd never heard Laurie say it about herself. Never like she could be on Billie's level... even if that probably wasn't what she'd meant.

"It takes a lot of skill to be this ridiculous." She teased in a low voice, barely above a whisper. When Laurie's finger traced the curve of her jaw, her eyes fluttered. Even if the last few minutes had felt like a bit of an emotional whirlwind, Billie didn't want to be there any less. In fact, she wanted to be there even more. And her need to be closer... well, maybe Billie Kaye needed the emotional closeness that physical intimacy could bring too. Laurie had helped her realise that in a whole new way, but in that moment, she wanted to be closer. She needed Laurie to know that she was there. That she was right fucking there and she was in this.

Whatever this was.

Steadily, her hand slipped from Laurie's hip and cupped her cheek. Her fingers brushed against her hair, rubbing at her scalp gently. She'd wanted to kiss Laurie all night, but now it felt like there was something more. Like it would mean more. Billie bowed her head slowly, brushing her forehead against the blonde's. "Laur... you know you can keep talking to me all you want, a-and I want you to... whenever you feel like you can or need to."

Laurie knew how to fake it. Knew how to fake listen, how to fake smile, how to fake attentiveness. Maybe that was one of the default settings as a Sinclair daughter. But even when she smirked or rolled her eyes or taunted the mechanic with that smart mouth of hers, Laurie hadn’t been faking it with Billie. And if she ever tried to? Billie was bound to notice it, right? To clock her? She could even try to dance around the emotions she was feeling right now, but it was a little too late to backtrack what had already been done.

Hands had covered her face in an attempt to hide, either from her guest or the world at large, but Billie’s instinctive care wasn’t really going to allow for that in the long run. Determined to cut through any layer of deflection. Laurie tensed as she felt hands pull hers down, heard that gentle nickname cutting through the tense air. And she barely got out one word before Billie’s sincerity came barreling in again. “Don’t—” It matters. If it matters to you… it matters.

Fuck.

Every concerned word voiced only reminded Laurie even more that she had said far too much. She shouldn’t have said anything at all. It felt disorienting to just ramble like that, to spill personal shit she didn’t even share with friends. Tipsy enough that she slipped up. One word too many, one revelation too much. And yet… Billie wasn’t judging. Not even a flicker of disappointment, not a trace of condescension either. Only care. Genuine, steady, unwavering care.

And I don’t need a reason to care about you. I just fucking do, because I think you deserve that. Everyone deserves to be asked if they’re fucking okay.

Laurie stiffened for a heartbeat as the warmth of Billie’s arms pressed around her. Her hands hovered before finding the other’s shoulders, her heart beating so loud that it nearly muffled anything else her mechanic was saying. How about what... how about what you want? That was far too loaded for Laurie to even begin to think of an answer. She didn’t know what she would say to that at all.

“—Fuck,” she gritted out again, her hands grasping Billie’s shoulders. “I’m—fuck, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to… it’s just… the stupid wine and I just—” She felt her hands tremoring as she untangled herself from the embrace. “I shouldn’t have fucking said anything.” She swayed slightly as she tried to stand, getting off Billie’s lap and then the furniture. What did she want? Probably to stay in those arms, for one thing, a truth not verbalized but she felt it as she let go. There was hesitation, like her fingers were reluctantly pulling back from a comfort they had been used to.

With Laurie, it just felt like she knew the answers, even if she'd never lingered on them. Even if it had started off clumsy and hesitant and admittedly awkward when she had thought a little too much. But so many times since then it had felt like there was no disconnect between her brain and the action of showing care through touch. Not when she felt how Laurie reacted to her. Another act of service.

No, Billie Kaye had never thought of herself as someone that craved touch. She'd never thought she'd be someone that leaned in for another kiss after one stopped just because she could. She'd never thought she'd fall asleep beside someone with their fingers intertwined. Yet, when Laurie untangled herself from her arms and got off her lap, Billie felt like she'd lost something.

And now Laurie wasn't even looking at her. She'd said something again – something fucking real – and was just leaving. Running from the admissions that still rang through Billie's buzzing brain. Admissions she could blame on the stupid wine if she wanted, but did that make them any less true? Some of Billie's most raw confessions had been made when she could barely stand and her mouth tasted like cheap liquor. But then Laurie hadn't said she didn't mean it... just that she hadn't meant to. She hadn't meant to open up to Billie.

As Laurie moved away, Billie kept her gaze ahead. The quiet please lingered in the air. The blonde's warmth still felt like it was lingering on her skin, but the space where she'd been was cold. It's fine, okay? The words tumbled over all the others, and Billie glanced over her shoulder. Was it? Was it fucking fine?

Was Laurie fucking fine keeping it all trapped in her chest until it spilled out in a torrent of frustration? Until it slipped from her lips in comments she didn't mean to make? Or just until it all got too fucking much and piled so high on top of her that she would just collapse... whether that was against Billie or completely in on herself like a supernova. Bright and powerful but so frenzied.

Could Billie deal with it? Laurie had already told her back in December she wasn't sure she could explain and that she'd get it if Billie couldn't deal with that. The problem was Billie wanted to deal with it. She wanted to deal with all of it, and Laurie just couldn't. Or wouldn't. Maybe shouldn't.

It was clear she couldn't fix all of this. Maybe she couldn't fix any of it, but she wasn't going to hold back from trying, even if it had stung when Laurie had moved away. Laurie had rarely moved away from Billie's touch, at least not in a way that wasn't playful or intended to wind her up more. In fact, most of the time she lingered or pulled Billie back in. It just didn't fucking seem fine.

Slowly, she pushed herself up from the couch and crossed to the sink where Laurie now stood. Billie didn't know everything about Laurie Sinclair (their 'conversation' minutes ago had been a stark reminder of that), but she had been taking mental notes on her for months. And rarely had there been just a push with no pull. And if she completely got it wrong and Laurie blew up and really pushed her away... then so be it. Billie didn't quit or walk away or leave or get mad just because someone she cared about was going through something difficult.

The quiet laugh that came out was almost self-deprecating. “There’s always someone waiting to tell me how I should dress for the stupid fucking pictures or how I didn’t smile the right fucking way, or how I’m still not taking things seriously enough, or how my mother wants one thing or my father wants another and I’m—” Her voice wavered at the end, the sentence left unfinished for the time, a cascade of frustrations spilling out faster than her breath could keep pace with.

Perfect portraits of her parents lit up the screen inside her mind. Anyone stepping into that house would probably be judged. Braced for critique or disapproval or anything else under that roof. But the Sinclair children themselves would always be tested more, wouldn’t they, when it came down to it? They were scrutinized the hardest. They were the standard-bearers.

“But I—” Laurie furrowed her brow, staring at Billie’s collarbone while her fingers grasped the fabric of the shirt. Her rambling might not even have been coherent, especially when she hadn’t really divulged information like this to someone before. If Billie was making sense of it, piecing together anything by context clues, Laurie was too distracted in the moment to notice. “I don’t stop. I never fucking stop. I… I try even when it means fucking nothing and I—none of it fucking matters.”

But it did. It mattered to a girl who tried and tried all the time. It mattered to a girl who dressed as a figurative mirrorball and hoped anyone would notice. Hoped her parents would be proud. Hoped she wouldn’t be bombarded with the gaze of disappointment. She felt the ache of it all, the trials and tribulations of trying and barely getting anything as a result. It did sound selfish from the outside looking in, a rich girl who seemingly had everything complaining about some daddy issues and internal insecurities.

Brand her as an attention-seeker, but the reason didn’t just stem from vanity or selfishness. The world wasn’t always black and white, and the Sinclair children weren’t either.

She didn't just want Laurie on a physical level. She had never just wanted Laurie on a physical level. But this was a level they'd only tiptoed on the edge of before, maybe fleetingly in that bathroom at Bob's or in the quiet moments where Laurie would curl up against her bare chest. All of the unspoken ends of sentences. Everything they'd both been holding back. Not secrets... something closer to painful truths. The fear of being seen. All the fragments of internal worry and insecurity on display for another human being to see.

And why did it matter if Laurie told her or not? Billie kept plenty of things close to her chest, but the idea that Laurie was hurting and unravelling in a cascade of frustrations... well that hurt to watch, and it must fucking hurt to feel.

I didn’t fake anything with you!

It had been there in so many moments. The pinched and distressed look on Laurie's face. The hand against her chest unsure whether to push or pull. Billie's hand against her chest keeping her grounded in the truck. Cancelling on their planned hang out. The distracted glances at her phone. Slipping off her heels in the elevator. How easily Laurie had sank into her open arms and reached for her time and time and time again. How there hadn't been a single time when Laurie hadn't taken Billie's offered hand.

For two seconds stop pushing me away when I’m right fucking here and tell me what you need.

Billie listened silently, taking in every word and change in Laurie's tone. Every shift in her body and the aversion of her gaze. The mechanic had never lived through the pressure of being perfect. All her mothers had ever wanted her to be was good and safe and kind and helpful, and Billie hadn't always been that, but she had never been judged or scrutinised by the people who were meant to love her the most. Even when she'd messed up.

No, Billie had been saved by a family who would fuss over her grazed knees and ask how she felt and not why she'd been silly enough to fall in the first place.

None of it fucking matters.

But all Billie could think in that moment was how much it fucking mattered. Being seen and being cared for and being heard fucking mattered. Being adored for the very person you walked through the world as mattered. Laurie mattered. And if Laurie didn't think her own family fucking liked her... that everything she did for them didn't matter...

It didn't matter who Laurie was by association. Founding Family child with daddy's money or not... it also came with the additional interest of endless judgement and isolation and pressure just by being their daughter. Something that had been slowly building in recognition but didn't click any more until that moment. More understanding that made Laurie more real than Billie had believed she could be.

Just because she was a pretty rich girl with problems, didn't mean they weren't painful problems. It didn't make these problems any less real.

I know you don’t understand and I don’t know if I can explain.

When Laurie's finally eyes met hers, Billie silently begged for her to hold her gaze. But she didn't, covering her face moments later. "Laur..." Billie breathed, raising her own hands to pull Laurie's away from her face. She wrapped her own fingers softly around them and guided them to her chest, holding them there. "It matters. If it matters to you... it matters." She whispered.

Billie slowly released Laurie's hands but moved only a second later to run them against the blonde's face, brushing her thumbs across her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that you're made to feel like that." She added before dropping her hands away. Her soft brown eyes, as gentle as ever settled on Laurie's face. And then she shifted and her arms encased Laurie's body, holding her as close as she possibly could in their current position.

Wouldn't it just be so fucked to be with someone whose family didn't even like you? It was about the episode, of course. It wasn’t about anything happening outside of a screen. It was just a random comment to further evaluate Laurie’s stupid guilty pleasure. But under the surface, it wasn’t that random at all.

The wine in Laurie’s system was blurring the edges of her usual caution, loosening the careful filter she would normally wear when it came to certain matters of her life. And when she responded, it wasn’t just with a laugh or some fleeting remark that didn’t matter. “Wouldn’t it be fucked up—” she began to echo, a faint smirk tugging at her lips despite the seriousness absentmindedly creeping into the moment. “—If your own family didn’t even like you?”

Her words tumbled out before she could stop them, and she wasn’t paying much attention to how they sounded or how personal they were. Not at first. And they did sound… personal. Even if Laurie had said it off-handedly, the phrasing was distinct enough to give certain implications, like such a scenario may have hit a little close to home.

Billie’s hand was fully in Laurie’s now, having happened at some point in the last minute. But Laurie just held it between both of her own hands, playing with her mechanic’s fingers and wrist.

If your own family didn’t even like you.

Oh. That was... oh. Off-handed and accompanied by a laugh, Laurie's words didn't sound like a hypothetical or an observation based on what they'd both been watching together. Billie couldn't see Laurie's face, but her eyes did drop down to the model's hands cradling her own. Billie smiled softly, but she could feel her heart rate picking up. Holy shit, that had been personal, and Billie could feel the words running through her head again and again.

Trying to be good enough for them or anyone. Even though the words were murmured, she was listening intently, and she could feel the warmth of them against her neck. An emergency broadcast could interrupted the show that was still playing, but Billie was entirely centred on Laurie. Only her. Only her words. The beautiful woman in her arms who was... fuck, was Laurie opening up to her?! A truth pressing on the surface that Billie fleetingly wondered if Laurie had meant to push against.

Her fingers slipped between Laurie's and squeezed down softly on her hand. Billie's brain felt a little fuzzy, and maybe it had something to do with the wine or her racing heart, but the words just kept running through her mind. The mechanic's hand that had previously been on Laurie's hip ran up her back and cupped the back of her head, lightly pressing her fingertips against the base of her skull.

"Laur..." She breathed, tilting her head down. She wondered if Laurie could hear the quickening pace of her heart. For a second, panic broke through her sincerity. What if Laurie hadn't meant anything by it? But what if she had... "Are you talking about... yourself? Your family?" Her eyebrows furrowed. For a moment, she almost insisted that family was supposed to love you. It was their job and responsibility to love you, but Billie knew that wasn't the real world truth. She'd been taken in by a family that loved her.

If anything, Laurie Sinclair was more real around Billie Kaye than most of the people in that damn town or even just her life. But that was still something they hadn’t talked about, among other things.

Billie was listening so patiently and attentively, like nothing else in the world could quite capture her attention as Laurie could. In Laurie’s exaggerated animation, the blonde hadn’t quite noticed the full extent of Billie’s eyes on her, the way the brunette might not have looked away once. Looked at her in a way that made it seem like Laurie hung the moon and Billie had the privilege of bearing witness to it.

“Well, yeah. I’m an incredible storyteller,” Laurie replied with a roll of her eyes, as if she were just stating the obvious. “And… I think you just like listening to me talk.” That or liked her just being vocal in general, though that was… beside the point. She was still leant in close enough to be dangerous, though even being in the same room as each other was. Her heart beat quickened a little as Laurie released Billie’s chin, drinking more of her own wine. Blue eyes flickered from Billie’s mouth to her hands to her lap and then up to her eyes again, all in the span of a few sharp seconds.

“Fine,” she sighed, like she was already exhausted just by reaching toward the coffee table. She grabbed both bowls and handed one to Billie with a smirk. She finally shifted on the couch to sit forward again, close enough that where was some physical contact, enough that she could feel Billie against her side. Not full-on cuddling, per se or at least not yet, but there wasn’t some noticeable distance either. If there was space, the blonde just might have felt bothered by that, as ridiculous as it may have been.

Lifting the remote, Laurie pressed play and the scene on the screen proceeded to continue. Some random couple having some trivial argument about something or another. Something that was mentioned in Laurie’s recap, in one of the many bullet points she had gone through, surely. The episode brought more drama, and also brought laughter into Laurie’s living room too. She made comments here or there, even clanged their glasses together in some random toast because of an inside joke.

But that hadn't much mattered on hot summer afternoons when Billie had wandered along the boardwalk and seen Laurie surrounded by people as put together as her and thought she was the prettiest woman she'd ever seen... even in Laurie wouldn't look at her once let alone twice. Nights at Bob's where she'd glanced up from her half-full drink to see Laurie laughing at some joke from some conventionally attractive person with an easy smile.

Billie didn't even know Laurie knew her name until that day in November when she'd swept in like a hurricane with her screaming brakes demanding Billie do her damn job. Only to leave her hand lingering for too long in the mechanic's in the parking lot of the very apartment they were in three months later.

And Billie hadn't just learnt plenty about Laurie and her habits and interests during that time, she'd learnt a lot about herself too. Good things. Who she could be when being with another person physically actually felt good. A confidence in herself that she'd never known was there. Her ability to show care in a way that had never really been platonic.

But neither of them had dared to push a little deeper. Even Billie with her unwavering sincerity had only been dealing with what was directly in front of her. It was easier that way, wasn't it? When they could just kiss and not question it, even if Billie second guessed her want to lean in. When they could fall asleep with their fingers intertwined and not mention it the next morning even if they didn't forget it. When Billie looked at Laurie like she always had and Laurie had looked at her not just once or twice but a hundred times with want and need and attention and care in her blue eyes.

It was easy to just laugh with Laurie, whether Billie was letting out a surprised what a fucking idiot or Laurie was gasping at the drama on screen. There were moments she even found herself looking at Laurie (not surprising) to witness her reaction to something being played out because that was more enjoyable obviously. And because when Laurie had challenged her on staring at her the whole time, maybe had been a huge understatement.

But more enjoyable than hearing her laugh at anything on the screen was winning the laughs for herself. At one point, Billie had peered down at Laurie's hand and asked to see the snack she'd plucked from the bowl, only to steal it the second Laurie's fingers fell open. And then Billie had tried to toss some candy up into the air to catch it, only to get a shot directly to the eye.

She couldn't even remember why they'd been laughing so hard after that, maybe at the expense of someone on the screen, but she felt every motion of Laurie's body against her own. Because at some point, Laurie had tucked in real close and when the model's legs had been laid out over her own, Billie's left hand had foregone stealing candy or attempting tricks to lay against her thigh, her thumb ever so faintly brushing against the smooth skin. Her right hand had been thrown across the back of the sofa but at some point had dropped down, fingers lazily curving against Laurie's waist.

Her eyes were still on the screen as her laughter finally eased, and Billie tilted her head back. The scene cut, and she let out an exaggerated sigh with a mumble of this asshole. Billie's own wine glass was empty, set next to Laurie's and one of the empty bowls on the coffee table. Her cheeks were warm, and her body felt fully relaxed for the first time in days.

Fuck. Billie finally walked off to go do an array of tasks Laurie had amusingly ordered her to do. All while the blonde was left on the couch, slipping underneath the blanket and trying not to look over her shoulder. She let herself sink further into the couch cushions, her fingers just tracing patterns along the fabric of the blanket. Footsteps brought her gaze upward as Billie placed down two glasses of wine, and Laurie smiled back with an amused tilt of her eyebrow. Reaching forward, Laurie grabbed one of the wine glasses, another thing to help occupy her previously empty hands.

The whole plans tended to backfire thing was reflected quickly in the way Laurie did look over her shoulder, watching as Billie continued to maneuver around the kitchen like she knew every little nook and cranny, arranging snacks into bowls. But it wasn’t about the wine or the snacks or the TV shows. Not really. Laurie glanced away, sipping the wine and staring at the TV screen as if it wasn’t currently still paused.

Her mechanic returned, Laurie smirking at the snacks bowls of variety that were presented. But she feigned exaggerated offense, scoffing at Billie’s quip. “Wow, insult my snacks again and you’ll lose blanket privileges forever, actually!” she retorted, rolling her eyes, and yet her hilarious warnings didn’t stop her from offering half the blanket to Billie anyway.

Grabbing the remote off the coffee table, Laurie’s thumb hovered over some buttons before she paused at Billie’s question. “Uh, yeah. Absolutely,” she declared like it was obvious, shifting enough on the couch so she was sitting a little more sideways. Enough to face Billie a little more. Her free hand tapped against her guest’s collarbone, either to make sure said guest was paying attention or as an excuse to touch her in some way again. Or both. “I’m like already 28 minutes in and I’m not starting over. So, get this—”

She recounted the chaos that had been happening so far in that episode, of course adding her own exaggerated spin on the explanations. If you could call them explanations. It was just a continuous ramble of one drama to the next, sometimes plot points not exactly being linear whenever she would remember something else that was relevant too. And the way Laurie was describing everything made it seem like the whole show’s cast was simultaneously in love or jealous or confused or all of the above.

Honestly, Laurie Sinclair’s recap of reality TV episodes might just be more entertaining than the shows themselves.

When Laurie turned to face her and fingers tapped against her collarbone, Billie didn't think of anything beyond the beautiful features of the model's face and the smooth texture of her voice. Laurie could have been about to explain something incredibly boring, and the mechanic would still have listened with as much focus. Except Laurie wasn't just talking about anything, she was talking about something that made her animated. Something that made her light up with dramatic gestures and such varied inflection in her voice as she dropped names and situations and drama.

Billie wouldn't have given two shits about the characters on her own. She'd never sit down and watch Love is Blind under her own will, but when Laurie explained what had happened over the last twenty-eight minutes of the show and previously, Billie would have swore it was the best show on television. When she'd sat with Laurie before to watch an episode here or there, she'd wanted Laurie's reactions and thoughts to enrich what she was watching on screen.

Fuck, seeing her like that made Billie's heart thump so loud she was glad for the constant string of words. At least it might not be so obvious how endeared she was or how Laurie could have spoken for hours and Billie wouldn't have asked her to stop once. Or maybe the only interruption would have been Billie succumbing to the need to press her mouth to Laurie's. To whisper against her lips how she was so sorry for cutting her off, but it was so hard to hold back.

Would Billie have ever imagined getting to see this side of Laurie? Not in a million years. All comfy under her blanket with a glass of wine in hand, enthusing in a way that just seemed so excited. And the mechanic saw herself in it too. She saw the light in Laurie's eyes and lift in her voice that she heard in her own when she talked about suspension components and off-roading trails and things that got her mind turning a million miles an hour.

If the desire to kiss Laurie hadn't already been reaching a fever pitch, she almost lost her restraint when the blonde leant in. Billie's eyes fluttered when Laurie's fingers touched her chin. "I don't think so." She whispered, her chest rising and falling in a slightly laboured manner as her dark eyes flickered downward and then right back to Laurie's blue ones. "I think I understand it better from listening than if I'd have watched it myself." She smiled slowly. A little dizzily.

There was no push in that moment, and Billie felt the pull tugging at every inch of her. She could so easily lift herself up off the cushions and pull Laurie in. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. She raised her wine glass to her mouth and tipped it up against her lips. A weak option compared to Laurie's lips. It was dangerous to be this close. This comfortable and looking at Laurie the way she did. And why would it be a bad thing to kiss Laurie like her mouth and mind had been craving her every day since she'd strutted up the forecourt in her heels?

There had been so many moments that ranged from heated to gentle, and yet each one felt pretty fucking relevant to the way they were acting now. Every prior moment had heightened the comfort they felt with each other, the kind of comfort that was being showcased presently. Of course, barring the lingering lack of earnest conversation about feelings or thoughts or what the fuck this was between them.

Maybe. The word fell so quietly from Billie’s lips that it was almost missed. Laurie’s chest tightened, her heart doing that weird fluttery thing. But she barely had time to think further about Billie’s gentle honesty before the grip on her hips secured even more.

Laurie smiled as she was lifted from the countertop in a careful but firm manner, a soft giggle releasing. Her arms rose to wind around Billie’s neck, fingers grasping the fabric of the shirt near the other’s shoulder blades, legs around Billie’s waist too. “Did you miss chauffeuring me around?” she teasingly murmured as they crossed to the living room. And yet, that question might just have been another way of asking if Billie just missed her. Not that Laurie recognized that in the moment, too occupied with the enjoyment of being carried like a princess. “I think you’re a little better at that than trying to describe wines…”

Cushions were felt underneath Laurie as she was placed onto the couch, unwinding her arms from Billie. All of this movement, the lifting and the carrying from the counter to the couch and also just the feeling of Billie against her, was making her a little dazed. A little distracted. The wine was probably a factor. Billie was just being sincere and attractive and looking very pretty. Do you want anything specific?

It was the smiles and warm thoughts that lingered even after she drove away. It was the ghost of Laurie's touch that stayed even after she was gone. It was everything Laurie Sinclair and her damn giggle and pretty blue eyes and the sound of her sweet voice murmuring if Billie had missed chauffeuring her around. She had. Of course she had. She had missed Laurie as the week had stretched out before her.

Not in a big way that had brought her day grinding to a halt. No. No way. Just as she'd clocked out for the day at the auto shop and actually checked her phone. As she'd stood alone in her kitchen adding food to a pan and glanced across at the empty counter. Those quiet thoughts in the back of her mind that came as she slipped beneath her bed sheets, wondering if maybe she'd have a better night's sleep if Laurie was there to wrap her arms around.

"Maybe." She mumbled, echoing her earlier answer about whether she intended to stare at Laurie the whole time. Maybe was very close to yes but far away enough that she didn't feel her entire beating heart vulnerable on display. There was a soft safety in maybe, but the way she looked at Laurie didn't do maybes. Billie looked at Laurie like no other words except yes and always existed. Like there was no grey area in how Laurie made the world feel a little brighter.

"Thank fuck for that. I feel like if I can tell a red from a white and the other mixed one I'm doing okay."

Despite her bravado and challenge for Laurie to tell her what she wanted, she faltered at the feeling of the model's hand on her collar. How many times had Laurie's touch lingered? How many times had she been held just like this and pulled in by her collar? Their first kiss had been guided with a pull on her collar, and it would have been so easy to close the space as insistently hundreds of kisses later.

You.

Billie's lips parted, totally enraptured by the three letters that had fallen from Laurie's mouth. Fuck, she wanted to kiss her. She wanted to give her exactly what she asked for. And then there was more than just you and Laurie's hand fell away from her shirt. Billie breathed in deeply. "You got it." She whispered before reaching out and tenderly stroking her hand against Laurie's hair, brushing her thumb ever so fleetingly across her cheek bone before she stepped away.

After one more long glance at the fantastic sight of Laurie on the couch, she headed back to the kitchen and got to work. She drained the bottle of wine between both glasses in a heavy pour and placed them carefully on the coffee table, flashing a grin at Laurie before returning to task. Billie grabbed a couple of bowls from the cupboard and filled one with an assortment of sweet snacks from the pantry and the other with savoury snacks.

There was a content smile on her face as she rounded the sofa and set both bowls on the table. "Is the blanket a lost cause?" She asked playfully as she lifted her glass of wine off the coffee table and took a long drink before carefully flopping down beside Laurie on the couch with it in hands. Definitely no plans to spill anything. "Your snack game still needs work, by the way." Billie teased as she chewed her lip and looked to the side at the other, finally relaxing her shoulders for the first time that day into the couch.

She was just still flushed, exposed under the kitchen lighting and Billie’s brown eyes, but it wasn’t like the blonde was trying to be anywhere else. Billie leaned a little closer, and Laurie’s heart rate went a little faster. They didn’t kiss then, but somehow the physical tension itself felt more overwhelming anyway. I will carry you, but I'm not carrying you and the wine. Laurie desperately wanted to find a good remark for that, and a fast one too, but her lips just parted silently instead. Especially after Billie’s hands grasped her hips. Yeah, the warmth from that spread faster than the wine in her system.

Her hand had been maintaining a rather good grip around the wine glass, but said grip loosened for a moment. “—Making your own demands now?” she finally commented with a little grin, turning her head away just enough to take another sip of her wine. Billie wasn’t wrong. That would have definitely been a mild obstacle, the attempt to keep any spillage from happening in the time it would take Billie to carry the girl from one space to the next. Because if either of them was going to be the real reason for a drink spill, surely it would be Laurie’s amused self as opposed to Billie’s steady form.

Finally relenting to the rather valid point Billie made, Laurie placed her wine glass back down onto the countertop. A little behind her, good enough distance away that it surely wouldn’t get knocked over in the next minute. Out of harm’s way. Though it wasn’t really a glass that was the danger, was it? Both of Laurie’s hands found Billie’s wrists, her fingers sliding up the other’s arms. All while Laurie also uncrossed her legs, tugging Billie forward more. Their faces were closer now, Billie’s features far more detailed up close and personal. Features she had been quite attuned to for months.

Blue eyes flickered over the brunette’s face. Soft. Maybe too much so. Laurie still felt warm from all forms of current contact, but managed a smile. “Are you just going to stare at me all night?” she whispered, although that was what she would want as opposed to the alternative.

Billie laughed too as Laurie mentioned the snowstorm and whatever she'd been doing out in it. She was sure the model could have taken a damn good guess, but Billie was also pretty sure this was all part of it. The playfulness that made her cheeks hurt and her heart race. The fact that sometimes Billie felt like she could give as good as she got even against Laurie's smart mouth, and sometimes... she could even give better.

Her eyes dropped to Laurie's slightly parted lips. There had been occasions where Laurie had said nothing... sometimes literally the word nothing. But this was a moment where Billie knew she'd given better. Even if fleetingly before Laurie's comment – maybe even a challenge – finally rolled off her tongue. She didn't offer a verbal response, merely shrugging her shoulders, as her eyes studied the profile of the blonde's face. The movement of her cheek bones and jaw as she tilted the glass up against her lips.

Billie still kept her eyes on her as she set the glass down on the counter. Carefully out of harm's way. Not that Billie was sure what harm could come to it. It wasn't like she was going to lower Laurie down on the... nope. Sofa. Snacks. Television. Warmth was no longer so much of an issue given the comforting heat of the apartment and the prickle of a flush on her skin in response to... well... just in response to everything.

And the flush intensified as Laurie's hands found her wrists and moved so smoothly along her arms. It felt familiar, but it still made her heart race. Maybe she could have kept it together. Maybe she could have played it Billie Kaye Cool (if such a thing existed, which it never had before so wouldn't start now), but then Laurie tugged her forward. If she'd been that damn fucking wine glass, she'd have shattered into a thousand pieces. And thanked Laurie for it.

Billie's eyes were wide as they met Laurie's, fighting for a semblance of having her shit together in this fucking fancy kitchen. Her chest shook a little as she pulled in a breath, entranced by the way Laurie's eyes shifted across her face. They'd been this close before. Fuck, they'd been closer, but it hadn't always felt like this. Like an ache in her chest that wanted nothing more in that moment than to bury her hand in Laurie's blonde hair and kiss her right on the damn smart mouth.

Before she'd even formed a thought, her lips moved and the word maybe tumbled out. Betrayed her. Her brain caught up seconds later, a look of slight alarm crossing her eyes. Fuck. Okay. Okay. That semblance of having her shit together had to be somewhere in her body.

She tightened her hands on Laurie's hips and stepped away from the counter, pulling the woman up against her in a way that was familiar. They'd been here before. Striding down Billie's hallway. Stumbling out of Laurie's bathroom. But this time, Billie did exactly as she'd been asked and carried Laurie to the couch because even if her legs were always perfectly fine, she'd do it any time she asked, initial taunting commentary and all.