On the Edge of Tomorrow

Chapter 7

Billy was asleep when I awoke. More surprisingly was how a twenty-five-year-old, 6'4" man appeared so young as he slept. A tiny part in his lips let out his silent breath. He was too tall for the couch, but his stubbornness was endearing. 

I tried to be quiet as I made tea by not letting the kettle rise to a whistle to avoid disturbing him. As I escaped back to my room, I saw his notebook. I refused to let myself read the words. I couldn't invade his privacy in that way, but my eyes still settled on the tattered pad and capless pen before I pulled them away and escaped back to my room.

It was crazy even to consider his offer. Still, I texted the subletters to see if they knew someone that may want a room. I convinced myself I was keeping my options open. As I hit send, Larissa texted me her address and a request to meet the rock star. Could I share him? Was it possible to overcome the impulse to keep him for only me?

I slowly got ready, knowing that Billy would probably be asleep for hours. Through many mistakes, I learned to put on my shirt after I finished my makeup. With limited coordination and even fewer makeup skills, the likeliness of spilling pretty much everything was high. Many shirts lost their cleanliness in the process before I learned to reorder my morning routine. This was how Billy found me.

"Oh, sorry; I didn't realize you..." He covered his eyes with one hand while awkwardly waving the other.

"Have you never seen boobs before?" I laughed.

"Of course I have." Groggy annoyance filled his voice.

"Is it bras that offend your eyes?"

He was adorable when unsettled. "You make it very difficult to be a gentleman." He shot back as he left the room, plopping on the couch.

I pulled on my shirt and headed to make amends with a pot of coffee.

"Sorry," I murmured as I passed. "I'll make you coffee."

"What about you?" Absent strumming on his guitar accompanied his words.

"I had tea."

"Do you prefer tea to coffee?" The focus filled his voice again despite the strumming.

"I do, but I don't dislike coffee. I only drink herbal teas, though; black and green teas give me a headache." He didn't say it, but I sensed he noted the preference in his head. "Did I wake you?"

"No," it was a curt answer.

"Did the couch to body ratio wake you?" I knew I shouldn't tease before coffee.

"You're determined to rile me this morning." It wasn't a question as much as an observation. "You may change your mind if I lose my temper."

"Do you?" I prodded. "Do you lose your temper?"

"Doesn't everyone?" He set his guitar aside. The conversation had become interesting enough to carry his full attention.

"I suppose, but it's not always a bad thing."

"It is when I lose my temper." A thickness filled his voice.

"Is that a warning? Should I be scared?" I had to poke. The idea of Billy even hurting a fly seemed ridiculous.

"No, you shouldn't, but it's not always pretty." While I didn't sense he lost interest, he reached for his guitar. I suspected this was a safety blanket.

The coffee maker finally finished gurgling, and I poured a cup for him, setting it on the table before letting myself sink to the couch.

"May I ask a favor since I'm diligently considering your request?"