Billy Jeffers: Rockers of Steel (8 page)

“Yep.”

“After that is CT-349.” He reaches into the glove box and grabs a pair of aviators.

I reach on top of my head to pull mine down. “Dammit.”

“What’s up?” he asks, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

“Nothing. No big deal.”

“That’s one thing about females that I never understood.” He sighs, leans forward, and types in an address.

“But if we complain that we left our sunglasses in our car and really wanna throw a little fit about it, then we’re bitches, so … There’s that.”

“Here.” He hands me his.

“What about you?”

“Madison, take the glasses.”

“But—”

“Seriously, does everything have to be a fight with you?”

I open my mouth to say something nasty, and then I shut it quickly, biting my fucking tongue in the process. Tears immediately fall from my eyes, and the taste of blood fills my mouth.

“Look, let’s turn around. This isn’t a good idea, not after last night and today. Just turn around.” He is frustrated, and I am pissed.

“Shush, Billy,” I whisper as I wipe the tears away.

“Madison, we aren’t ever gonna be something—”

“Billy, right now, I’m being your friend, and sometimes, a friend needs to just shut the hell up once in a while.”

“You’re crying over sunglasses.” He says it like I have walked off the pier into the deep end and have no idea how to swim.

I ignore him, reach for the little packet of tissues, and pull one out. I hold it up to my mouth and spit into it.

“Madison, that is …” He stops when I fold it over and wipe my tongue. “Are you bleeding?”

“Yeth,” I say, meaning to say yes.

“How the hell did that happen?”

I pull the tissue away so I don’t sound like an idiot again. “I bit my tongue trying not to be a bitch by saying something like, ‘go fuck yourself, Billy,’ or ‘what makes you think I’d even consider being with some cheating asshole?’ ”

“Says the cousin-fucker,” he snaps.

“The what?” I ask as I push the accelerator and switch lanes.

“The assh—” He stops himself. “Whomever it was you are all packed up to be with tonight,” he finishes, gripping the ‘oh shit’ handle. “You’re gonna get a damn ticket.”

“I lied. No hot date tonight. I’m not a cheater,” I say in a way that is accusatory.

“What’s the suitcase for, then?”

“Always be prepared,” I answer as I see the green light turn yellow and nail the accelerator.

“You’re insane.”

“You know what? I get that things suck right now. There isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. So look on the bright side: you got off this morning, and I can promise I won’t say a word about it to the cunt Angel.”

“You talk like a trucker and drive like a thief.”

“You fuck like a bitch and are intentionally pushing my buttons. So again, Billy, just shut up.”

I come to a stop and hold the steering wheel tightly. Then I adjust the mirror and look at my tongue.

He cups my chin and turns me toward him. “Stick out your tongue.”

“Why, so you can spank it?”

He sighs yet doesn’t let go. “I wanna see how much damage you did trying to keep your mouth shut.”

I stick it out and watch him assess it. His jaw tightens, and then he rubs his thumb across my lip. I turn my head away, and he sits back to look away from me and out the window.

“You should stop and get something cold to drink. It would probably make it feel better.”

An hour later, and I can’t stand the silence.

“Can you hook my phone up to your system?”

“For...?” he asks slowly, looking at me.

“So I can listen to my music.”

“You don’t like the classics?”

“Not unless I’m going to bed.”

His eyes widen, and he turns away, shifting in his seat “Where is it?”

I pull it out from underneath my leg and hand it to him.

“Password?”

Shit. There’s no way in hell I would ever tell him.

I hold out my thumb. “This will work.”

“Madison, I’m not gonna steal your phone and sneak around in it,” he huffs.

Hmm,
I think to myself,
I would.

“I am going to ask you a question, and I would appreciate an honest answer.”

“Shoot,” I say, switching lanes.

“How the hell do you know about Angel?”

Shit and shoved in it.

“I answered the phone when she called and put her on hold until Jessica came back.”

He doesn’t say anything. Dammit, he knows I’m leaving out something.

“Then I left work and saw your car near the pier. I saw you with a girl. I’m assuming her name was Angel.”

He doesn’t say anything again.

“I saw her give you something.”

Now I wait for him to fill in the blanks.

“You followed me?”

“I saw you and stopped.” It’s not a complete lie, not even a lie. It was just not all of it.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t want one. I’m not a cheater.”

“So, who is she?”

“I asked you earlier not to bring her up again.”

“And I didn’t,” I reply, feeling proud of myself.

“Taelyn and I went to college with her. She used to date, or sleep with or whatever, Xavier Steel.”

“Does Taelyn know?”

“Yes, Madison,” he sighs. “Not everyone is a cheater.”

“Well, a lot of people are,” I add. When he doesn’t say anything, I look over at him. “Go on.”

“This is not office chit-chat, understand?”

The way he says it pisses me off, but I suck it up and reply calmly, “I’m not a big gossip, Billy.”

“Not even Tallia.”

“Fine, spill it.”

“She posted a picture of herself giving Xavier oral sex. She did it because she was pissed. She did some other rotten things, as well. I didn’t want Taelyn and Xavier together. He was a complete ass the first time I met him and I thought Taelyn could do better. I knew Angel did it but I didn’t tell them at first. Then I realized what type of person Angel was so I told them. It was a misjudgment of character, and I don’t wanna bring any of that back into their lives.”

“Yet, you are,” I point out.

“Not by choice,” he says under his breath. Then silence falls around us.

“Contrary to how you feel about me, Billy, I am very trustworthy.”

“Good, that goes no further.” He lays the seat back. “If you don’t mind, I am going to nap.”

I reach up and turn the music up a little. “Will this bother you?”

“No.”

I want to ask more questions, but I also don’t want to push too hard. I offered to drive him as a friend.

I laugh to myself, thinking about how he doesn’t consider me a friend. Hell, I don’t consider him one. But he does trust me, and I don’t want to break that trust. I know me, however, and it’s bound to happen.

I look over. His hands are fisted, and he is looking out the window. I know he is concerned for his father, and I also assume that is why he is being so … un-Billy-like.

When I eventually have time to process the past twenty-four hours, I know there will be a reasonable explanation. The problem is, unreasonable girls like me don’t always like reason.

I hear a phone ring, and he looks over. “It’s yours.” He leans over and hits a button on the steering wheel.

“Hello?” I ask.

“Madison?”

“This is she.”

“Great, this is Professor Jones. I wanted to chat with you about the project you’re working on.”

“Now’s really not the best time for that,” I say, feeling more than a little embarrassed.

“I have someone who is very interested in buy—”

I end the call.

“Did you just hang up on your professor?” Billy asks, confused. “And wait, are you taking classes?”

“Yes and yes,” is my answer.

“Where? When?”

“Online, when I’m not at work.”

“And this project …?”

“You ask a lot of questions for someone who is supposed to be napping,” I comment.

“Well, I think it’s great. You should—”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” I cut him off.

“Why?” He sounds dumbfounded.

“It’s no big deal; that’s why.”

“It is, Madison. Obtaining your degree—”

“It’s not. You may think a piece of paper saying you’re intelligent is a great accomplishment, but I don’t.”

“Then why do it?”

I shrug. “I like to learn.”

“Well, we seem to have something in common, then.”

I can’t help giggling and glancing over. “I’m more than just a pretty face.”

He smirks and rolls his eyes. “You’re very modest.”

“I am.” I giggle again.

“Tell me about your project.”

“I designed an app.”

“Wow, that’s very interesting. Has it always been a dream or a goal?”

“No, it was kind of an accident.”

“But it sounds like it’s marketable.”

“It’s not for sale. It would be like selling my baby.” I glance over at him.

He nods once and doesn’t say anything more until one word escapes his lips. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“May I ask you to consider slowing down so you don’t get a ticket?” he asks.

“Will you stop saying that and maybe go to sleep like you said you were going to?”

“Yeah. I would like to stop and grab a drink, maybe something to eat if you’re hungry.”

“Will you allow me to drink in your car?” I snicker.

“Yes, Madison,” he sighs.

“Why? Because you know I’m a college girl now? Does that make me somehow less … animalistic?”

“Point taken. I thought when you came to work here you walked away from school due to the success of the band” he grumbles. “Which online school?”

“Not all online, but Notre Dame.”

I hear a gasp of wind escape his chest and look over. The way he looks at me now makes me laugh loudly.

“Oh, yeah, I’m so much hotter now.” I roll my eyes.

“You are something; that’s for sure.” He looks out the window. “The next exit is in a mile”—he leans over and looks at the speedometer—“which means we’ll arrive in about twenty seconds.”

“Billy’s got jokes.”

“Aw, okay, and that’s almost as funny as the fact that you still have a license, considering you drive like a bat out of hell.”

“I’m a good driver.” I snicker again.

“Uh-huh.”

After stopping, filling up the vehicle, grabbing a couple drinks, using the bathroom—where I call Professor Jones and tell him we had a bad connection, but I was not willing to sell—I come out to find Billy standing against the car, eating a gas station hot dog.

As I get closer, he hands me one. I bite my lip because I have jokes for days about that.

“You can’t turn it off, can you?” he questions, but this time, he doesn’t sound as judgey as he usually does.

“You try having Memphis as an older brother and not having a warped sense of humor.”

“This is true.” He holds the hot dog out again.

“Wow, and it’s wrapped. Who’d have thought?” I comment, taking it and walking around to get in the car.

He gets in and looks at me. “I assume you’re talking about this morning.”

“Yeah.” I laugh. “I mean, what were you thinking?”

“I clearly wasn’t. I apologize.”

I push the button to start the car. “I mean, for as little as you think of me, that was kind of risky, you know. I mean, I could have an STD.”

His eyes narrow a bit as he looks at me,
really
looks at me, and for once in my life, I have to look away first.

“I’m pretty sure, as hard as you come on, you’re not out, having unprotected sex with just anyone. As a matter of fact, I can almost bet you haven’t been with anyone in a very long time.”

The moment is now lost. Asshat!

“
Pft
, that’s pretty presumptuous.”

“No, not really. I never pegged you as someone who slept around, just a tease.”

“Well …” I leave it hanging as I pull out, feeling unbelievably uncomfortable with this conversation.

“And why were
you
not concerned about STIs?” He uses the proper terminology. Of course he does. “Madison?”

I shrug. I don’t want to admit I was lost in the moment or that I didn’t purposely shove condoms in his bags or backpack whenever I had the chance.