Connected: Part 4 of the On The Edge Series

Chapter 7

It was true; the thought of my dad sent a shiver through me. I had been to the burial. I had said my goodbyes, but returning with Billy, knowing what lay ahead with the empty holiday, made my father feel more like a ghost.

"Okay, so," I began as I paused at my door, "fair warning, it's not as fancy or big as your rebuilt farmhouse."

"You don't say? Isn't your condo as big as my full-sized house? I'm shocked. Does that mean no barn as well?"

I gave him a smirk before shoving open the door to my place. "So, this is it," I said, looking around. "And it's pretty cold," I added to myself. I ticked up the heat a few notches and then paced across the living room to flick on the fireplace. "So, this is the living room, kitchen, and dining room. I converted a spare bedroom into an office on that side and the guest bathroom. And through here," I grasped Billy's hand and pulled him through my bedroom door, "is my bedroom with the master bath and my closets."

"I like it," he said, looking around. "I mean, a little more color wouldn't kill you, but it feels like you."

"I have yellow!" I protested. It was a typical comment. I often heard that the whole place felt like a hotel room.

"A couple of throw pillows and a blanket?" He raised an eyebrow at me.

"They count. It's called pops of color, and it's a style." I jabbed his chest as I spoke.

"Of course," he murmured as he followed me back into the living room. "No TV, or has Tim been here too?"

"Oh, I had one, but I didn't use it much. And then a girl on my team had hers break, so I just gave her mine."

"You're incredibly sweet," he praised before my turntable and nearby record collection drew his attention. He flipped through the box on top, and I knew he devoured them as my frequently listened to albums.

"Any surprises?" I asked after a few minutes.

"Always," he absently said as his mind digested the records.

"Put on the biggest surprise," I prodded.

But instead, he sunk to the box below and flipped through at a near-frantic pace.

"Billy?"

"Lil, where's Nina Simone? It's your favorite," he asked as he turned to me.

"Oh, I guess I haven't been listening to her as much. I think it's in one of the boxes I have in the storage unit." I attempted to keep my voice calm and steady, but I knew where his mind was, and it wasn't wrong. I Put a Spell on You, Blood on the Tracks, Spanish Harlem, and all of my Gene Vincent albums had long moved out of sight.

"Show me," he said curtly as he held his hand to me.

"Billy, it's late. I'll get them out tomorrow," I whined.

His hand dropped, but his eyes darted around the condo. "Where am I?"

"What?"

"Where am I, Lil?"

"You're standing in my living room acting a bit like a crazy person," I said as I pulled myself up from the couch.

"No, where am I here? Did you entirely push me away? Hide me in a storage unit?"

"Billy, it's just some albums I didn't listen to as much," I shrugged.

"I'm sorry, you are trying to tell me that More of The Monkees is in heavier rotation than Nina Simone and Bob Dylan?"

"No, there are plenty of Dylan albums in those boxes."

"Mmhmm, just not Blood on the Tracks."

"Billy, people listen to different things at different points in life. I've been in a Monkees phase. Don't judge me."

"Lil, I'm not kidding. Did you sweep me under the rug for ten years?"

"No, of course not. I thought of you every day. Just because I don't have reminders of our every move all over the place doesn't mean I stopped loving you, and it doesn't mean I wasn't thinking of you."

"You're all over my life. You litter everything I touch. Every album I touch has songs with you in them. My kids drink egg creams and say klopplebaum instead of swearing. My office has the cane you gave me up on the wall."

"Is this a conversation or a fight? Who was pining better than the other?" I argued.

"Of course, it's not a fight because I'd win."

"I don't know what to do here, Billy. Do you want me to apologize for how I mourned our breakup?"

He sighed and moved his gaze out the window that overlooked the bay. Then, after a long moment of silence, he murmured, "the ocean doesn't look as scary from up here."

I moved close to him and placed a gentle hand on his back. He let his arm fall around my shoulders, pulling me closer to him.

"I wanted to dance with my girl," he whispered. "All our songs are missing."

It was a sweet sentiment that stabbed deep into me and pricked tears in my eyes. After all these years, all the bright lights, and public criticism, Billy's skin was still far too thin.

"Let's just go to bed," I murmured.

"Mmhmm," Billy distractedly mumbled as he let me pull him to my room.

I showered first, careful to leave hot water for him. It had been a long time since I had worried about leaving hot water for anyone. I dwelled on the thought as I tied my robe and returned to the bedroom. Billy was lying on the end of the bed, staring at the ceiling.

"You should've brought your guitar," I teased at his boredom.

"I left it at home on purpose." As he spoke, he sat up.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I've been known to use it to hide. I didn't want to hide here, not with you. I left Tim in total control of the studio as well. You're all my focus."

I smiled down at him and brushed his dark hair from his eyes. "I don't think it's hiding. I think it's how you process. Please tell me you understand no one has ever been in love with anyone as much as I'm in love with you. I love you so much; it pains me to think about it."

"Pains you?" He questioned.

"I don't think you'll ever understand how much I love you, despite it being the only thing I want in life. I want you to know how loved you are."

He looked up at me, and a small sympathetic smile crossed his face. His lips slightly parted as a tiny breath escaped his lips, and he pulled himself up my body to stand with me.

"I know the pain. I've felt it for as long as I can remember."

He cupped the back of my head, allowing me to lean comfortably into his support as his lips sunk to mine, sending a sweeping warmth through my body. It weakened them when it hit my knees, but Billy's free hand braced me at the small of my back, pulling me against his muscular frame.

I pulled my lips away from him just enough to let out a breathy "I need you" before sinking back into him.

Billy's heavy intake of breath roared like a raging river in my ears as he warred with himself. His body pulled us closer together, and his lips clung to me out of need, but I felt his mind screaming for him to stop. I knew what was coming when his hands tensed on my hips before he ripped himself away. But instead of letting him pull away completely, I kept my arms around his neck and sunk my head into his chest with a sigh. With a deep exhale, he rested his chin on the crown of my head and melted around me.

"Just a little longer," he murmured.

"Whenever you're ready," I whispered back.