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mrsalwayswrite · 3 months ago

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All I Long For - Chapter 2

Thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged the first chapter. You guys are amazing!

Just a reminder, this is my first time writing for Billy, so I hope he doesn't feel OOC. I also adjusted his backstory a little as to when he joined the group home to fit my story's narrative. Lastly, reader has a nickname in this fic.

Words: 5600

Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

There was something about the stillness of the early morning that had always appealed to you, when everyone was asleep and silence hung like a protective shroud. It was peaceful. In this time of quiet serenity, you could think best or zone out depending on your mood.

With the first of morning's colors peeking over the horizon, only you, Mary and Peter were in the kitchen beginning the preparations for the buffet breakfast. Based on how late the guests seemed to have stayed awake the prior night, you would be shocked to see anyone for at least the next two hours.

Beth, who finally stumbled into your shared room about midnight and accidentally woke you up, told you that most of the guests were still up drinking, playing billiards and talking. After dinner, Billy had allowed the staff to retire and said the men could take care of themselves.

Terrified of what you would do or say if you stepped back into the dining room and into view of those dark eyes, you opted to help out in the kitchen and clean up afterward. Once completed, you quietly retired to the shared room with Beth, instead of spending time with your coworkers. Using the excuse that you were tired and the drive had taken a toll on you, they accepted your lie easily. But it was not the drive or the day's work that made you seek shelter.

It was those dark eyes that haunted you, that bright smile that made warmth unfurl in your chest, his very magnetising presence, which made you desperate for solitude to hide away and think.

Except with morning's light, you still did not know how to feel about seeing Billy Russo.

There was a part of you that wanted to throw yourself into his arms, to revel in the feeling of his warmth again, to hear him laugh and pretend he had never abandoned you in Albany, that nothing had changed.

But it had.

And that was the part that screamed loudest in your mind.

If he had cared, he would not have abandoned you.

Preparing for the morning buffet, you quietly cut up strawberries for the fruit tray, adding them to the other assorted fruit. Mary focused on making batches of pancakes over the hot stove, humming to herself and frequently brushing her graying hair out of her eyes. Peter stood at the island, broad shoulders hunched over as he tapped a pen against his opposite hand, staring down at the meal plan for the day and clearing making plans on how to best utilize time and resources. You knew Peter was ex-military, yet it was frequently in the way that he stared, making plans in his head before commanding his troops, or catering crew, on how best to complete the mission that reminded you of this trait.

The sound of footfalls echoing off the walls leading towards the dining room drew your attention away from your task. You perked your head up, wondering what guest was awake at this early hour. Most likely someone seeking coffee to help fight the lingering hangover.

Instead what you saw made your mouth go dry and your heart skip a beat.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.” Peter smiled, standing up straight and rounding around the island.

Billy moved forward and extended his hand, accepting the chef's handshake. “Morning, Peter. I apologize we didn't have much time to talk yesterday.”

Peter waved him off. “We talked enough on the phone and I settled plans with your PA. I knew you came to relax, not talk with a grouchy bastard.”

“Y’know I always make time to talk to you.”

“Sure, sure. What are you doing in my kitchen this early?”

Billy shrugged, sticking his hands in his jean pockets. “Too many years in the marines and now running my own business, can't sleep in even if I wanted to.”

“I understand that. Want anything while you're awake?”

“Coffee ready?”

“Finishing percolating right now.” Peter gestured towards the industrial coffee maker that was still sputtering. “Want to wait or I can run it out to you?”

“No, don't let me take away from your time. I can see you're busy, I'll wait.”

“Suit yourself.”

By now, you turned back to the fruit laid out before you, your heart hammering away within your chest. The war within your body reignited, the one that began when you first heard of Billy's impending arrival yesterday. Your heart wanted to call out his name, to see if he was as happy to see you as you were him. Your mind fought to have you hide away, to run and hope he did not follow you, to stay safe.

Before you could find out if your heart or mind would win, the decision was taken from you.

The sound of footfalls echoed off the hard kitchen floor, growing louder as they drew closer to the corner you were tucked away in. Each step was the nail in the coffin…the first steps in a dance you knew long ago…an invitation and the potential for rejection.

Billy stopped next to you, his shoulder almost brushing yours. His back against the countertop, he casually leaned against it with his arms crossed over his chest, making the dark green t-shirt stretch in an entirely distracting way.

“Morning, Cat.” He murmured in his silvery voice.

And God, did that open the floodgates of memories and feelings. Your breath hitched in your throat for a brief moment before you swallowed it back down. Finally, you tilted your head, meeting those onyx eyes you could not stop thinking about.

“Good morning, Sunshine.”

He chuckled softly, running a hand through his sleep-tousled hair. “Fuck, I haven't heard that in years.”

“Mmm…that's what happens when you're away for so long.”

“Yeah…yeah, you're right.” He muttered, a coating of something heavy on those words that stilled your movement. Yet the moment passed as those sharp eyes bored into you, searching, assessing. “What are you doin’ here?”

“Working.”

“I figured that, smart-ass.” He nudged your arm with his elbow, making your slice go crooked.

“Ugh…jerk.” You nudged him back, with a little more force than necessary.

He grinned at you, unrepentant, before it slowly dimmed like a lightbulb being turned down. “Cat…what are you doin’ in New York City? Why aren't you in Albany? Not that this isn't a pleasant surprise.”

That traitorous organ in your chest flipped at hearing his statement, even as you tasted his questioning concern on your tongue.

You sighed, returning your attention to your task. How could you explain about the way your life had turned upside down in the past several years? How dreams and plans crumbled until you were standing amongst ashes.

“Grandparents are getting older and can't maintain their house on their own anymore. I volunteered to help.” You chose the easiest excuse for your presence in NYC. “It was easier for me to move than asking mom, dad or Benny.”

“Ah, good ‘ole Benny. How's that idiot doing?”

You rolled your eyes thinking about your older brother. “Has grease on his hands all the time…and his face between someone's legs, no matter their gender.”

Billy threw his head back laughing. “Oh fuck! Fuckkkkk! When did he finally come outta the closet?”

“You knew?”

“Course I did. We were best friends throughout our teens. I knew he wasn't ready, and I didn't care. He's always just been Benny to me. So what happened?”

You eyed him, surprised to hear that Billy knew. Your brother's sexual orientation was something you suspected but like Billy said, if Benny was not ready to admit it outloud, then it was not your job to pressure him. A new level of respect hit you as you realized the man next to you kept your brother's secret all these years, even now after all these years away. Honestly, you thought he was just oblivious during your teens.

“Well, it was kinda hard to ignore when his ex-roomate's girlfriend walked in on them fucking.” You finally explained, unable to stop the amused smirk from turning up the corners of your lips. Trouble seemed to find your brother, even if it was mostly due to his own actions.

“Well shit.” He chuckled and rubbed a hand over his mouth. “And your parents? They're okay?”

“They're fine.”

“And you?”

A snarky comment waited on the tip of your tongue to fly at him. What right did he have to ask about you when he was the one to push you away? He could have known, you had wanted him to know, for years. But he chose to ignore you, to not reply and eventually you stopped trying to reach out.

Yet that snark died on your tongue as you looked at him.

Even looking like he just rolled out of bed, he was still one of the most attractive men you had ever seen. Whoever created him had spent way too much time sculpting his face and perfecting his hair. It was not fair.

But there was something else you finally took notice of. Behind the languid way he relaxed next to you was a tension almost humming off his skin like a shield. Bruise-like bags emphasized his dark eyes, his fingers tapped rhythmically against his arms, the way his gaze locked on you but frequently darted around as if looking for an enemy in the shadows.

“Sunshine?” You whispered, making sure the room's other occupants could not hear. “Are you okay?”

He straightened, rolling up to his full height and narrowing his eyes as if preparing for a fight. “I'm fine. Never better.”

Your heart clenched, wondering how many people took his words at face value, because it was obvious to you he was not fine. Maybe at one point you could have wrapped your arms around him, held him close until that tension ebbed.

But that was years ago…and time and distance always changed things.

“Do–do you want to wait out in the dining room?” You offered. “Or outside? I can–”

“No. It's– I'm distracting you from your work. I'm sorry.” An emotionless mask firmly in place, he pushed off the counter, limbs taunt and movements rigid.

Without thinking, you reached out, resting a hand around his forearm, halting his movements. “It'd be too quiet, right?”

Billy did not need to answer, you already knew. The tension bleeding off him and the way he could not meet your eyes, staring off towards the door only confirmed. It brought back memories of teenage sleepovers, of him unable to sleep or waking up with a haunted look that bespoke of dreams he refused to admit out loud about. You would curl up against him as your brother softly snored away, and Billy would eventually fall back asleep listening to your heartbeat and your hand running up and down his back.

Even now, years later you could not stand that haunted look on his face. It tugged at your heartstrings, like a painful melody you desperately wanted to forget even as the notes and chords wrapped around you.

Damn it.

“Sit.” You tapped the counter where he had just been standing.

“What?”

“Sit down. I can multitask and you need coffee.”

You released his arm, walking away before he could agree to your demand. Ignoring the curious glances of Peter and Mary, you filled up one of the large mugs with the freshly brewed coffee, subtly taking a deep breath to still the racing of your heart. Once ready, you head back to your corner, unsurprised to see Billy sitting where you told him to with those dark eyes tracking your every movement.

“Black. That's how you like it, right?”

“Mmm…unless you take a sip first and add some of your sweetness to it.” He replied with a cheeky wink and charming smile.

A flush rose on your cheeks but you just chuckled and handed the elixir over to him. You pretended to be immune to the sensation when his large hands covered yours for the briefest of moments, accepting the cup from you, an almost caress to the touch that sent a zing up your spine.

The two of you existed in companionable silence for several minutes as he sipped on his coffee and you started cutting up pineapple. Amusement filled you when he blatantly stole some of the strawberries and popped them in his mouth with a smirk. At first you tried to whack his hand away but eventually gave up. Technically, he paid for all this food anyway.

“Tell me about Anvil.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the wall. “What about it?”

“Anything.” You shrugged, putting the fresh pineapple pieces on the tray. “It's been so…it's just grown so much.”

“Oh, y'know. Buncha bullshit and dealin’ with assholes.”

“And are you one of those assholes?” You teased.

A smile grew on his lips. “Oh, I'm the worst.”

“I don't believe that.”

“Yeah? Why not?”

You gestured towards him with your free hand, words spilling out without thought. “Cause…you're Billy. You take care of those you claim as your own.”

At your statement, you witnessed something soften in him…flashes of emotions chasing each other across his face and eyes, but too fast for you to narrow down what each one was.

The door opening redirected your attention, your gaze followed the sound. One of the guests stepped in looking slightly confused. You recognized him with the square jaw and crooked nose. The man grunted a nonverbal greeting to Peter before catching sight of you and Billy, making him do a double take. A dopey grin appeared on his face and he immediately began strutting closer.

Billy softly sighed, hands wrapped around his mug. “You know how I said I was the biggest asshole at Anvil.”

“Yeah?”

“I take it back. He is.”

You giggled at the resigned look on Billy's face.

The man slid into position on Billy's left. “Sun ain't even up and you're already flirtin’ with the staff.”

“Fuck off, Frankie.”

“Yeah, mornin’ to you too.” The man -Frankie- met your gaze, his eyes holding nothing but mirth in them. “He botherin’ you, miss? I can carry him outta here if you want.”

“You aren't fucking carrying me.”

“Again.” Frankie deadpanned, jerking his head in Billy's direction. “Can't hold his liquor, y'know?”

“I swear to God, Frankie–” Billy groaned, tipping his head back as if shooting a Hail Mary prayer upward.

The man reached a hand over Billy. “Frank Castle, best friends with this idiot. Gives me a pass to give ‘im shit.”

“I bet you're a good best friend.” You chuckled, shaking his hand.

“Oh, the best.”

“Goddamn asshole.” Billy murmured into his mug.

Frank turned his eyes to his friend. “What was that?”

You spoke up before Billy could reply. “Can I get you a coffee, Mr Castle?”

“Yeah, yeah. Black, please.”

“Why don't you both go find a seat on the patio? I'll bring it out to you. Mr Russo, would you like a refill?”

Billy narrowed his eyes at you, while you stared with your best customer service smile and innocent expression.

“Okay, sure. Only if you add your special sweetness to it.” He winked and you hated how you melted a little at that look.

You rolled your eyes as you took the cup from his hand. “Don't get your hopes up, sir.”

Frank chuckled. “She ain't taking your shit, Billy.”

Billy roughly elbowed his friend as he jumped off the countertop. “I've got time.”

“I'll only be a few minutes. Breakfast will begin to be served shortly.” You said, ending your involvement with the conversation and hoping to move them along.

Instead, Billy shifted closer suddenly, a calloused hand landing on your lower back, startling you into stillness. His head hovered over yours as he whispered in your ear. “It's good seeing you, Cat.”

“You too, Billy.” You whispered back, desperately ignoring the tingles shooting up and down your spine under his touch.

“Can– I'd love to catch up later. Are you free this evening?”

“After dinner my duties are done.”

“Good. I'll find you.” He placed a gentle kiss on your temple before turning and shoving Frank towards the door.

With heat filling your cheeks and your stomach doing somersaults, you tried to focus on the task at hand and not the feeling of his lips on your skin or his hand on your body.

Or the lingering, curious eyes on you as you moved around the kitchen.

To your dismay…and possible relief…soon after, a handful of your coworkers emerged in various stages of wakefulness and ready to help out. Peter assigned you to help Mary make the copious amount of eggs the buffet required. With that, you passed off your chore of bringing coffee out to Billy and Frank to Ashley who suddenly perked up from her drowsy state. Primping her hair and giving her breasts an extra boost, she glided out of the kitchen with a saucy wink and two full mugs in hand.

You shook your head at her antics and then fell into step with Mary, who hummed Frank Sinatra under her breath and reminded you to eat your own breakfast amidst stirring the eggs.

*****

Most of the morning and early afternoon had been quiet as the guests decided to utilize the surrounding woods and play paintball. What you overheard from some of the others, the two teams had taken the game very seriously. There had been a break for lunch, various colors splattered over many of the men, making a few appear like a Jackson Pollock painting. After eating, most returned to continue the game while a few chose to linger behind and relax.

Standing outside on the large back patio with the late afternoon sun warming your back, you helped Austin stock up the beer fridge and the table of snacks. By now, most of the guests sat around on the patio, sipping on beers and heckling one another over the game or there were a brave few to attempt golf on the nearby green. A smile graced your face as you could not help but listen in, hearing the camaraderie in the ex-military men.

No one needed to know the way you stole glances at Billy, an insatiable desire to see him amongst his friends and the people he was comfortable with. The smiles he shared, the animated way he would counter someone's story…it felt like you were seeing a new man with hints of the former boy you knew sprinkled in.

“Anything else?” You asked Austin.

He stood up, eyes scanning over the short table, laden with an assortment of snacks and treats. “No, the fridge is full and this looks good. Ah, shit, I forgot the water bottles.”

“Do you want help?”

“CAT!”

You visibly startled at the call of your childhood nickname. Turning around, you saw Billy gesture you over once he caught your eye. Unsure what he wanted, you blinked up at Austin, not about to leave your coworker in the lurch if he needed you.

“I've got it.” He nodded towards the guests. “Better see what Mr Russo wants.”

“Okay.” With butterflies doing a synchronized dance in your belly, you walked over, overly aware of the eyes on you. It made you want to squirm, to run and hide, to be the wallflower you preferred but you ignored the feeling for now.

Thankfully, Billy sat tucked away to the side on the patio on a cushioned, wicker patio chair. Next to him sat Frank on his own wicker chair, eyes crinkled and lips pulled back in the barest hint of a smile. A short table was placed before them with scattered empty bottles, a couple of cell phones and evidence they raided the snack table. On the other side sat two men in their own chairs, watching on with grins. The brief thought they looked like they could be cousins crossed your mind before you approached the group.

“Is there something I can do for you, Mr Russo?” You politely asked.

“You could stop calling me ‘Mr Russo’.” He huffed but his smile overshadowed any true annoyance.

“Uh huh,” you sassed back, putting a hand on your hip, “and do you always get your way, Mr Russo?”

The three guys chuckled but it was only an afterthought as Billy's gaze captured yours.

“Always.” He said, an undercurrent of something dark and wicked in that one simple word. With the way his onyx eyes held you hostage, his answer felt more like the threat of a promise. You swallowed thickly and shifted uneasily, hating the way a jolt of heat shot straight to your core.

After a second, the intensity subsided, allowing you to breathe fully. He jerked a thumb towards his best friend. “Frank, here, doesn't believe we grew up together. I told him we're friends but he keeps insisting I'm harassing you.”

You glanced over at Frank before returning your gaze to Billy. “Hmm…and it obviously can't be both.”

His mouth dropped open the slightest bit, jaw slack as he stared at you, seemingly shocked you would not immediately agree with him. Maybe you should have? It probably would be wiser to just agree with him in front of his friends instead of teasing him. Yet it was so easy to fall back into old habits with Billy, that lighthearted teasing that bordered on flirtatious. This morning's conversation in the kitchen was evidence of that. Even now, when you should be acting professional, you could not help it.

Your mind unhelpfully reminded you that this was why you had wanted to stay away from him. You were not immune to his charm, and your heart held enough scars and bruises, you did not need more.

Before you could apologize and correct Billy's question, he snaked a hand out and grabbed you around the waist. Forcefully, he dragged you onto his lap and began to ruthlessly squeeze the tops of your knees, making you kick and squeal. Something he used to do when you annoyed him as teenagers.

“Shit! Okay! Okay! Billy, stop! Mercy, mercy!”

Logically, you knew you were making a scene that you would have severe post-embarrassment about. Yet all you could focus on was making the tickling stop.

With a self-satisfied smirk, Billy laid a hand on top of your knee, a nonverbal threat. You slapped your own over his, covering it like that would somehow save you if he decided to restart the torment.

“Ya done teasin’ me, Cat?”

You drew in deep breaths, an attempt at stilling the racing of your heart. Unfortunately now that you truly could take in your position in Billy's lap and how close your faces were, your heart raced for an entirely unrelated reason.

“I'm done. I promise.” You heavily breathed out.

“Hmmm…good girl.” He whispered, eyes locked on yours.

It took all of your wavering self-control to not squirm or melt at that comment, to not show how he still affected you so easily.

“So I take it after this little…” one of the other men in the group gestured between you and Billy, a jovial smile on his face, “you two clearly know each other.”

“Billy was best friends with my older brother growing up.” You explained, looking at the dark-skinned man. “He practically lived at our townhouse during his teenage years.”

Billy reached over and smacked Frank's arm. “Told ya, asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Good for you.” Frank grumbled, lips curling upward at the corners.

Still feeling eyes on you and the highly inappropriate position you were in, you tried to stand up but an arm around your waist prevented you, tightening like a noose.

“Where are you going?” Billy asked.

“I thought…” You did not know what to think. Your gaze darted between the four men, gauging their reactions.

Billy lightly squeezed your waist. “Stay.”

“No…your friends don't want me here. It's a boys weekend.”

“It's fine.” The one who had spoken up earlier said. “It's nice to see Billy can have a woman as a friend.”

“Curt…” Billy groaned, tipping his head back for a moment.

You raised an eyebrow at him but thought you understood the implication due to what gossip magazines and random articles wrote about his personal life. Not that you tried to pay much attention to them. Your gaze turned back to the other man. “I think there's some stories there I need to hear.”

He laughed, a lightness radiating off him. “I'll swap you for some stories of Billy as a teenager.” He leaned forward, holding out his hand which you happily shook. “Name's Curtis. That's Frank,” he pointed his beer bottle towards Frank and then towards the fourth man, who looked like they could be related. “That's Devon….and you're Cat?”

You smiled, shaking your head. “No, that's just a nickname Billy and my brother, Benny, gave me when I was younger.” They seemed to nod in understanding when you shared your real name.

“So why ‘Cat’?”

Billy picked up the story, giving your waist an affection squeeze. “She'd follow us around damn near everywhere. Couldn't go anywhere without her at our heels. Then she'd usually curl up somewhere to watch or fall asleep, like a cat in a sunny window. So ‘Cat’ stuck.”

“How old were you two?” Curtis asked.

You shifted to look at Billy, your brows furrowed as you tried to remember when Billy first came into your life. Somehow even now, it felt like he had always been there. “Were you– not that's not right…you weren't a teen yet, right?”

Something dark flashed through his eyes, there one moment then gone the next, so much so you wondered if you had imagined it.

He answered Curtis. “I'd just moved to the group home in Albany. They decided I was too much fucking work to try and foster again. So I was about twelve…which would make you about ten?” He asked, seeking your confirmation.

“Yeah, that sounds right. You and Benny were in the same class.”

“Pretty sure your mom took one look at my skinny ass and told me I was staying for dinner.”

“And you never left.” You sighed dramatically.

“Maybe I found a good reason to stay?” He murmured, nuzzling your neck, hands tightening around you.

“Watch those hands, lieutenant.” You muttered even as you started to rise. The realization slammed into you that you had been sitting in his lap for far too long as a grown-ass woman in plain view of his friends. What kind of message were you sending about yourself?

When you were younger, you used to sit in his lap or curled up into his side whenever possible. Sure, Billy and Benny started calling you ‘Cat’ but they both equally earned their own nicknames to coincide with yours. Billy was ‘Sunshine', your safe place, your personal sun, whose lap you could always curl up in and never turned you away. Not long after, you and Billy teased your older brother by calling him ‘Squeaky’ since you had a habit of pouncing on him and making him squeal. For six years, it was the three of you near constantly. Your parents had even taken to calling you the Three Musketeers on occasion. That was until Billy joined the Marines and Benny moved away to start at a trade school when they turned eighteen.

Then you were all alone.

“Where ya going?” Billy asked, trying to tug you back into his lap.

You swatted his grabby hands away, finally relenting and taking a perch on the wide arm of his patio chair. No longer in his lap, a wave of self-consciousness snuck up on you as you tugged on your work uniform. It was a pair of simple black pants and a collared black shirt, nothing special, but thinking about the women he was typically photographed with, you felt like a ugly goblin.

Devon leaned forward, pointing a finger, the rest of his hand wrapped around the beer bottle. “Come on, sweetheart, you gotta share some embarrassing stories so we don't hate him for being better and prettier than us.”

You could feel the hand Billy had placed against your lower back tense and grip onto your shirt like a lifeline. If the looks tossed his way by Frank and Curtis meant anything, they also noticed the sudden, palpable tension. Growing up, you witnessed the way Billy hated to be called ‘pretty’ but figured it was a teenage boy not wanting to be seen as feminine. There was one time you watched him practically pummel a boy in high school for calling him that as a joke. It had taken four teachers to drag Billy off and keep him back.

Before your rational mind could take over, you immediately jumped to his defense. A habit clearly still ingrained in you, even years later. “I wouldn't call him ‘pretty' per se…maybe more like devilishly handsome.” A flush warmed your cheeks as you realized what you blurted out loud. “I mean…at least that's what most of the women of New York probably think, and maybe half the men too.”

“Christ, can't take him anywhere without someone tryin’ to get fucked by him.” Frank teased.

“I'm telling Maria you're jealous.” Billy retorted playfully.

“Ain't fucking jealous with your tiny pecker.”

You covered your mouth, eyes wide, as the men around you laughed, even Billy, making you think this was a recurring joke. You did not want to think about that part of Billy…

…even if you already knew it was the furthest thing from ‘tiny’.

“Alright, come on, give.” Curtis chuckled, redirecting the conversation. “Tell us a story.”

“Oh no. I know better than to try and share embarrassing stories. He has just as much ammunition to use against me.” You tried to deflect, much to their protests. “Actually, I'd much rather hear about the shenanigans he got up to with you guys. I remember once when he visited after, I think, the first tour…something about setting firecrackers under someone's bed?”

“You sonofabitch! I knew it was you!” Frank exclaimed, reaching over to cuff the back of Billy's head. “Goddammit, I fucking knew it!”

Billy laughed loudly. “You looked like you needed some excitement!”

Curtis leaned forward, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Billy ever tell you about the time him and Frank thought it was a good idea to go joyriding during tour?”

“What?!”

Curtis launched into his story, which then started the four men to swap stories, trying to one up embarrassing each other or their comrades. It was not long before your chest hurt with the amount of laughter erupting out of you, giving you glimpses into their lives…into the family Billy curated away from you and yours.

Your rational mind knew there were tasks you should be doing, helping out your coworkers and actually working, but the continuous laughter and Billy's hand on your lower back, thumb rubbing circles, kept you in place. At one point you briefly noticed Ashley and Beth step onto the back patio, checking the beer fridge and snacks. You could see them eyeing you, Beth with amusement and curiosity and Ashley with something tinged in hostility. But then someone launched into a new story and your attention was swept away in the hilarity.

“...and that's how we ended up putting a goat in our CO's tent.” Billy finished his story, then turned his attention to Frank. “Did he ever realize that was us?”

“Nah, don't think so. He was dumber than that goat.”

The best friends tapped beer bottles against each other in silent cheers. You had gotten up once already to get them all new beers and yet somehow found herself still perched on Billy's armrest, his hand resting on your lower back again.

You barely took note of the two men walking up the steps until one called out.

“Hey, Lieutenant! Save some of the women for us!”

“Gotta keep up, Charlie!” Billy shouted back, an easy smile on his face.

The man -Charlie- and his companion laughed and headed inside through the door.

Something about the comment seemed to reawaken you, reminding you where you were and what your role was. This was not your vacation. You were here to work. Time felt irrelevant as you sat with the men but you knew you had spent far too long with them. You were certain if it was not Billy you were with, someone would have dragged you back to the kitchen by now. Shit, you hoped Peter was not going to be mad at you. You were still new and trying to prove your work ethic.

You stood up, the sensation of Billy's hand falling away twisting a knot within you that you worked to ignore. “I should get back to work. Thanks for the stories and it was also lovely to meet you all.”

“Come on, one story!” Devon held up his pointer finger to illustrate. “Just one story about Billy. Ya done heard all of ours.”

You glanced down at Billy, who stared back with a smirk, a challenge in his dark eyes. “Fine. It's not a story, but I can tell you what scares Billy the most.”

With all four pairs of eyes on you, you glanced around as if making sure no one else was close before lowering your voice. “His greatest fear is Mrs Bauer, the science teacher and her ruler of doom.”

Immediately Billy threw his head back laughing uproariously, almost struggling for breath as laughter poured out of him. The other three smiled, clearly understanding they were outsiders on an inside joke.

“Have a good day, gentlemen.” You said, your own smile hurting your cheeks with how wide it was. You walked away, back to the kitchen, back to where you belonged, with Billy's laughter echoing in your ears.

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