I may have skipped at one point as we made our way to the car. I know that a shared giggle passed between my lips and Billy's. He chivalrously walked me to my side of the vehicle, but paused beside the open door and pulled me close to him.

He gave my face a familiar scan. "How are you now?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?" My hands fell to his chest as I peered up at his face.

"Because maybe if I had asked more in the past, you wouldn't have left me." It was a sincere and crushing sentiment that pooled in the back of my eyes.

I let my head fall to his chest while I collected myself. Billy's arms protectively circled me, and I felt his chin rest on the top of my head.

"Billy, I know that, in reality, I left you. That's what you felt, and everyone felt. But I didn't leave you or us. I just wasn't ready. It was a whole life you offered, and I was still building myself. I know that's not an excuse, and you deserved better. Viv and Jackson deserved better. Tim, Mary, and Tess deserved better."

"You deserved better too, Lil." His voice flowed with the familiar vibrations from his chest. "But we haven't watched a movie," he said in a lighter tone. "So, we shouldn't be having this discussion yet."

It was the yet that lingered as he shut the car door behind me. His hand slipped to my knee for another reassuring squeeze as he settled into his seat. This time, I didn't focus on the world outside the car; I let the center console jut into my side so I could lean against Billy's shoulder as he drove.

"Bowling, I should have known you'd take me bowling," I laughed as the neon lights of the bowling alley illuminated our faces.

"What can I say? I love to bowl," Billy announced.

"Oh, I know you love to bowl," I teased.

"Hey, your favorite game is Canasta. So, don't be knocking bowling over there."

"I'm so bad at bowling. You know this," I whined.

"I do. And I'm an excellent bowler. So, this will be a lot of fun for me," he quipped before sliding out of the car.

In a flash, Billy was at my car door; I had barely swung my legs out. I took his outstretched hand and felt the familiar whirl as he pulled me up to his side. A tender kiss on my forehead greeted me as I crashed into his body.

The clutter of falling pins pounded my ears as we entered. Bowlers crowded the lanes, more than I expected for a Wednesday night. Instinctively, I curled into Billy's side in anticipation of the looks and stares that never came. Just like the restaurant, no one seemed to notice Billy's presence.

"Size seven, right?" He murmured before kissing the top of my head as we waited in line for a lane. It was all so normal.

"Yep," I leaned into his proximity, letting his warmth blanket me and protect me from the barrage of noise from the lanes. "Good thing I wore socks," I absently said.

"It's December. Why the hell wouldn't you be wearing socks?"

"Lots of my shoes are no socks or nylon stocking shoes," I shook my head at his boyness.

"You should keep a pair of socks in my car. You never know when a bowling emergency will come up," he advised.

"A bowling emergency?"

"Yeah, you know, like a gray Tuesday when you spill your coffee and have to deal with Tim... lunchtime bowling will chase those blues away."

"You're a musician; don't you revel in the blues?"

"Not the gray Tuesday need to bowl blues."

"Shoe size?" The kid behind the counter spoke in a bored tone, wholly underwhelmed by the rock star standing before him.

"Seven and thirteen," Billy answered before turning his attention back to me.

"You have big feet," I noted.

"Well, I'm a foot taller than you."

"You're not a foot taller than me. I'm 5'5"," I childishly argued.

"Lil, the only time you're 5'5", is when you're standing on a 2" stool."

"That's not true! My license even says 5'5"."

"Well, licenses can't lie. I've had the same weight on mine since I was 16, and we know that isn't true." Billy tapped his belly as he spoke.

"I love this." I pinched his side. "It's a little pasta pouch."

"Please never say that again." Billy let out a loud, uninhibited laugh.

"Lane three," the boy sighed in the same bored tone as he absently plopped our shoes down on the counter and returned to his phone.

"Seriously, it's almost offensive how little people care about you being here," I noted.

"Hey, take it as it comes," Billy cautioned. "Do you want me to give you some tips?"

"That depends. Do you want to have fun, or do you want to argue for the next hour?"

"No tips it is."

Billy fell to the plastic bench and changed his shoes while I made my obligatory apologies for my lack of bowling alley etiquette to the neighboring lanes.

Billy crushed bowling. He littered his board with strikes and spares, while mine averaged about four pins in a frame. Still, it was fun. And then, the bowling clouds parted, and I got a strike by some stroke of sheer dumb luck. I squealed like a teen girl that had just had her first kiss and jumped into Billy's outstretched arms.

"Did you see?" I excitedly asked.

"I did." he laughed as he twirled me.

"I've never gotten a strike before. I don't even know how I did it!" I babbled.

"Well, you see, what you did, dear, was roll one of them balls down the lane," Billy explained mockingly as he set me down.

"Stop, don't rain on my parade!" I pushed at his chest.

"I'm very proud of you," he added with more sincerity as he kissed my forehead.

I slumped down on the bench and started to change my shoes.

"What are you doing? We have two more frames?"

"Oh no, I like to go out on top. I'm done bowling."

"Lil, we have two more frames."

"You heard me. Out on top," I stubbornly said.

"You're," he sighed while shaking his head, but rather than finish, he plopped beside me and began to take his shoes off.

"Good, boyfriend." I smiled as I gave him a peck on the cheek, causing Billy's shoulders to leap from a silent laugh.

The deflation of the ending evening sank into my chest as Billy drove us home.

"Did you have fun tonight?" His voice was low, like the hum of the road.

"Yes, did you?"

"I did. If I were to ask you for a second date...."

"You would get a yes." I sighed as I leaned into his shoulder, once again letting the console jut into my ribcage. "I honestly wish tonight would never end."

"Well, it could have been two frames longer," he teased.

"Billy, how did you make tonight work?" I interrupted his jesting.

"What do you mean? I just drove you places," but it was clear he was masking something.

"Is that what it's like when you're home? Are people just used to you being around, so they don't care anymore?" It was an ideal scenario, but it didn't feel accurate.

Billy let out a sigh. "Don't get mad," he reluctantly began.

"Nothing good comes after 'don't get mad.'"

"I rented out the restaurant..." he hesitated momentarily, "and bowling alley."

"What? But who were all those people?"

"Friends, co-workers, relatives I didn't think you'd recognize," he shrugged.

"You stacked the deck!"

"I didn't stack the deck. I just removed a potential derailment."

"Billy, this one date must have cost you a fortune!"

"Worth it; I'd do it again tomorrow."

"You are the most...." I sucked in a breath.

"What? What am I, Lil?"

"Frustrating, sweet, extravagant, perfect boy."

"I'll accept boy and sweet and acknowledge that I can be frustrating."

"And extravagant," I added.

"I'm not extravagant; you make me sound like Liberace."

"You rented out an entire restaurant and bowling alley for a date," I argued.

The wheels of his car crunched to a stop in front of his house as he turned his full attention to me. "I rented out an entire restaurant and bowling alley for the date, Lil. The only date that will ever matter in my life."

"Oh," I laughed nervously, "who's dangerous now?"

"Did I just win an argument with the Lily Turncott?"

"I do not admit defeat!" I shot as I unbuckled.

"I totally won. I got you, Turncott! It only took twenty years, but I got you!"

"Ugh, and what are we doing at your place?"

"I didn't want the night to end. I thought we could have a drink." He shrugged as he pulled himself out of the car.

I just waited for him to open the door and extend a hand to me this time.

"Bringing me home, a little presumptuous for a first date," I said as he tugged me to his side.

"Well, I hear I'm a sweet boy," he teased as we started up the walk. "Hey, remember that time we were bickering, and I won?"

I didn't bother to answer. I just shook my head in awe of his gloating.

"Yeah, it was great for me, too," he agreed with himself before something caught his eye. "Oh, no; what has he done?"

There, pinned to the front door, was a note from Tim.

Dear Assholes,

If you are both reading this, you've managed one evening without scorching the earth. I've taken the power cables for all the TVs and laptops. Billy, I'm now also in possession of your phone chargers. Have no fear; the kids know to reach out to me if there are any emergencies. I'm clearly the most mature adult of us all.

Try to watch a movie now, jerks!

Billy, if you're alone. I'm sorry, and feel free to call if you need to talk.

Tim

"Son of a bitch. A dramatic maniac has robbed me." Billy ripped the note down as he spoke. "Jokes on him; I was going to talk you into the hot tub, anyway."

"You want me to get into your hot tub on a first date?"

"It's good for my back, and I have no comment on my thinly veiled attempt to get you into it."

"I have nothing to wear," I added.

"Clothing is entirely optional." His words came distracted as he shrugged his jacket off.

"Billy Collins!"

"Who's a sweet boy now?" A cheeky smile filled his face as he helped me with my coat.

"Maybe we should do a little talking first," I suggested as something akin to anxiety sent waves through my stomach.

"Tim would respectfully disagree with you," he noted as he hung up my coat. "But, you get to choose. Make yourself comfortable." He nodded to the living room. "I'll get some drinks."

I turned on the fireplace, hoping the roar of the flame would soothe the mounting apprehension. Instinctively, my body curled into itself on the couch as Billy returned with a bottle of champagne.

"Billy Collins, are you trying to get me drunk and in your hot tub?"

"Pleading the fifth on that," he laughed as he popped the cork.

"You forgot glasses."

"I did not. I don't like dishes." He took a sloppy swig directly from the bottle and handed it to me as he wiped a dribble of the drink from his chin. "Besides, it tastes better straight from the bottle."

I giggled and took a swig as Billy fell next to me on the couch.

"So, what are we talking about?" He asked as he grabbed the bottle back from me and took another robust swig.

"All the things."

"All the things; I should have brought two bottles in with me."

"Tell me about when I left," I started.

"No," he definitively said.

"Yes." I pulled away and looked at him.

"Why? What'll that do for us? Let's talk about the future."

"No, if we don't get over the past, we have no future. I'm not ignoring it this time."

"Why would we rehash all that? What if it just drudges up things better left back there? What if you leave again, and I'll have to deal with Tim... and my mother?"

"Why? Was it that bad?"

"You tell me about when you left," he countered.

"Fair," I acknowledged as I took the bottle and another big swig to prepare myself for the admission about to spill from my lips. "I was frozen. I compartmentalized you, Tim, Tess, Mary, my heart into a box and shoved it aside."

"Did you date?"

I sunk closer to him, hoping that the physical proximity would heal the delta caused by my words. "I was with a man for five years, but it wasn't like this. We were both with each other for convenience, not anything more. I mean, I loved him, but I was never in love with him. It was what I needed at the time."

Billy's voice dropped low as he asked, "were you lonely, Lil?"

"Yes, incredibly." I lifted my gaze to watch the confession flow over Billy, but I didn't see the surprise I was expecting. "You knew I was lonely," my voice cracked.

"Your dad worried about you." His words came tight as though he were in recoil from a punch of my dejected acknowledgment.

I dropped my face to his shoulder to mask the agony ripping through me like a bullet.

"Lil," a gentle finger lifted my face to his. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have told you."

"No, you shouldn't have been burdened with that alone. I did it. My dad was worried about me.

"I worried about you, too. As angry as I was, I wanted you to be happy."

"Were you lonely?"

"Yes. That's why I reached out to your dad. I needed a piece of you still."

"Can you forgive me?" It was the question that I needed to ask, and he needed to answer.

He looked at me for a long time before asking, "It's different this time; you're different. But what is it? Why is this time finally different?"

"I have nothing to prove to anyone other than you."

"Me? You don't need to prove anything to me." He pulled away from me in shock.

"Of course I do. I have to prove to you that I love you and deserve you this time."

"I know you love me, Lil. And you've always been too good for me. That was the problem."

"Billy, that wasn't the problem. You were never the problem. I was afraid I wouldn't be strong enough to stand beside you. I feared I'd fall behind you and let you take care of me. That anxiety always ripped us apart. It was always me and my self-doubt." I tried to pull closer to him to relieve the gap between us. "I need you to understand that. You need to acknowledge that this has always been my fault. I'm the one that doesn't deserve you."

"No, I won't acknowledge that," he pushed away from me.

"But you know it's true. I've heard you in your songs; I'm the villain."

"No." He popped up from the couch to relieve the surging tension stiffening his muscles. "Don't do that, Lil. Don't paint this like you're evil and I'm some saint. And don't use my music against me."

"I'm not using it against you. I'm using it against me. I finally listened to it. I finally heard your side. You were right. You were always right."

"This isn't fighting for me, Lil. You taking all the blame isn't fighting for me." His head twitched back and forth erratically as he pulled at his hair. "I don't know what it is, but it's wrong."

"It's okay." I kept my voice even and stood slowly, deliberately. "We're okay." I eased closer to him as though he were a wild dog that might run from me. I got to him, close enough to touch him and then close enough to wrap my arms around him. "We're okay."

"No," he said as he leaned into me. "It's not right. We messed ourselves up in the past. There's no what you did or what I did. If we are going to work, we have to acknowledge our mistakes. They're ours."

"Okay," I eagerly agreed. He was right. It was us and we.

"It's just... one of us pushing too hard only pushes us together. We have to walk together. If we come into this as individuals, we'll fall apart again."

"Not this time." I met his eyes.

"Not this time," he agreed before lifting me off the ground. "Don't apologize to me. I don't like it."

I let my face fall to his chest as he let his face drop to my neck.

"What if I accidentally drop hot soup on you?" I teased.

"No, you never need to apologize to me. I'll already know." My neck muffled his voice.

"What if I make you wade through stinky Chinese food trash looking for a ring that's actually safely in Tim's pocket?"

"I wouldn't believe you if you apologized; you wouldn't be sorry." He pulled his face from me and met my gaze.

"You know me so well, Billy Collins." He fell on the couch in a coordinated movement that landed me on his lap. "But you have to let me apologize to you," I asserted.

"I've done my share wrong and will continue to do my share."

"So, we'll apologize to each other when needed."

Billy's eyes revealed he was biting back his disagreements.

"Billy, I love you. I'm in love with you. We'll work this time, but it won't always be good and won't always be fun. We have a brutal history, and we both need to heal together."

"Tell me you love me again," his voice was too severe for the request.

"I love you," I let my hand cup the sides of his face as I spoke. He melted into my touch. "I love you wholeheartedly, and I'll fight for that love until my last breath."

Billy then pulled me to his chest and rested his chin on the top of my head. "I love you more than I'll ever be able to express," he murmured.