reality did not conform to it. Almost as soon as I closed my eyes, a sense of peace and comfort filled me from the inside out, so deep and so powerful that, before I was even aware it was happening, I had dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER 19
Billy
“Well, good mornin’, pretty la—” My hoarse greeting for Reagan was cut off mid-word as I finished rolling over on my side and saw that she wasn’t in bed with me.
It was a pity, because I was sporting some serious morning wood and it’d be a shame for it to go to waste.
Maybe she was in the bathroom. I pushed up and let my legs fall off the bed, grabbed the jeans I’d discarded the night before, and called out to her. “Reagan? Darlin’, you in there?”
No answer. I crossed the room to the bathroom door and knocked. When I didn’t hear anything I pushed it open, my eyes taking in the whole white-tiled room in one sweep. Empty.
I pulled on a T-shirt and padded down the stairs, thinking maybe she had headed down to the kitchen to get water or a cup of morning coffee. As I passed the living room on the way to check, I noticed that Cheyenne was just starting to stir.
Shit, I hadn’t even thought about what it might be like for her to wake up in a strange house with no friendly face in sight. That might be really scary, especially when added on to what I was sure would be a head-crushing hangover. So, after taking just a second to duck into the kitchen and finding it empty—to my immense disappointment—I sat down on the edge of the coffee table and gave Cheyenne’s shoulder a little shake.
“Mornin’, sunshine.” I grinned.
Cheyenne opened her eyes, immediately squeezed them shut again, and covered her head with her hands, a low and drawn out groan emanating from her throat.
If it were one of my brothers lying on my couch, I would’ve opened the blinds and made as many loud sounds as I could manage—but it was different with Cheyenne. I didn’t want to do anything to add to her discomfort. I wanted to take care of her, I’d always felt that way about her. It was all coming back to me, flooding my heart, the feelings of protectiveness I’d had for the sassy yet fragile little girl who’d been my little sister so many years ago.
“You feelin’ it this morning?” I asked, patting her shoulder to provide a little comfort.
“Oh, God. Please just let me die,” she mumbled. “No lifesaving measures necessary.”
I chuckled. “Yeah. A good hangover’ll make you feel that way, for sure.”
“There’s nothing good about this.”
“Come on,” I said, nudging her elbow. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to cure a hangover. Greasy food and a hot cup of coffee will do the trick.”
She peeked out from between her fingers, her face still scrunched up. “Really?”
“Oh, yeah. Believe you me, I may not be prepared for much in this house. Hurricanes. Tornadoes. Earthquakes. Floods. All of those would catch me with my pants down. But a hangover? That’s an eventuality I am well-stocked-up for.” I motioned for her to follow me. “Let’s get you fixed up.”
She threw off the blanket and stood, wobbling a little as she found her feet. Everything in me just wanted to reach out and wrap my arm around her, guide her into the kitchen like she was still the five-year-old little girl I’d last known her as.
The feeling overwhelmed me so much, in fact, that it choked me with emotion, and I turned and stomped ahead of her into the kitchen to escape it.
Fuck, I hated emotion. I wasn’t a deep kinda guy. That was why, when it came to romance, I had boundaries. That way no lines would be blurred.
I’d always thought my preference for affairs of the extremely short variety sprang from my unwillingness to choose from the steady stream of high-quality talent that populated the bar night in and night out, and my aversion to any sort of drama. But now I suspected it grew more out of an unwillingness to get real with someone.
Was that why, with Reagan, I was suddenly open to all kinds of things I never had been before, like bringing her back to my place and letting her spend the night? Because my father’s death and the sudden reappearance of my sister was opening me up?