"Tell me another memory," Billy prodded in a tired voice.

"Huh?" 

His fingers skimmed across the small of my back, and his heartbeat beneath my ear lulled me into a stupor as I layed on his chest

"I like to hear about you. Have you ever been in love before?" He murmured. 

My mind wandered back to high school, halting on Benny. His toothy smile and awkward laugh. "I remember some dance in high school around Junior year; I went with a guy named Ben. The whole thing was fairly awkward. My friends were shocked that I agreed to go with him, but I liked him."

"Shocked?" Billy's voice startled my memory.

"We weren't in the same circle. He was super smart, and I was just average."

"Oh, I doubt that; what you meant was, he was smart, and you were smart and popular with your field hockey skirt and all."

A blush warmed my face. "I wouldn't say popular and definitely wouldn't say smart; more social perhaps. Anyway, it caused a bit of a stir when we first started. We grew close because he tutored me in math.  So, see, not that smart."

"Math was the worse," Billy groaned.

"Anyway, I was excited when he worked up the nerve to ask me. But at the dance, he could tell something disconnected us. So, on the way home, he stopped at the elementary school. It had this big wooden playground. And," I stopped for a moment, trying to find the best word. "To be honest, we played. He chased me around the castles and pavilions. We raced down the slides and settled on the swings. We talked and laughed for hours. I remember feeling so happy. I had no nerves or worry and wasn't trying to be anything I wasn't; I was just happy." 

I felt Billy's warm smile wash over me. "He was a lucky guy." 

"That's when I fell in love with him. Benny let me be me, and that was enough for him. It's so easy to fall in love when you're a kid."

"It's always easy to fall in love; adults dilute it with unrelated doubt." He absently spoke, but his words tore through me, leaving a trail of rage in the wake.

"Practicality isn't unrelated doubt." I pushed up from his chest as I spoke. My words came fast, like a pounding rain.

His eyes widened with surprise at the response he elicited from his absent words. "Love isn't practical," he offered.

"Life is practical." I rolled off from him in annoyance.

When I glanced over at him, he had his small genuine smile on his face enraging me more.

"What are you smirking at?" I demanded.

He held up his hands as though he was proving he had nothing up his sleeves. "I'm not smirking."

"Yes, you are. I can see your stupid dimples. You're smirking."

"Stupid dimples," he bit his cheek to stifle a laugh. "You love my dimples. My momma gave them to me."

"You can be so frustrating." I heavily threw myself into the pillows.

"I'm frustrating?" This time his laugh lacked the tease; it bordered on insanity as he sat up straight. "You're like a revolving door of indecision. You want me close, but push me away. You'll always take my calls but rarely be by my side. I don't know what to be to you. I'm trying to be patient, but..." His words trailed off, but the thoughts didn't; they continued to rattle around in his eyes, spilling out with a burning intensity. "Do you just want to fuck me; is that all this is to you?"

Pent-up anger bounced me to my feet. I stared down at Billy before he sprung up on the opposite side of the bed. The argument brewing for a year was suddenly let loose.

"Would I be here if I just wanted to fuck you? You've made your disinterest very clear."

"Disinterest. Oh, for fucks sake, Lil. I'm attempting to be a good guy here." He leaned his tall frame over the bed, so he was a few inches closer to me, as though his billowing voice needed help reaching my ears.

"Really? A good guy? Or do you have zero confidence in me making the right decisions for myself, so you must swoop in and save me from my lust? Honestly, Billy, maybe you should follow me around cock blocking me because, clearly, I'm too weak-minded to make sound decisions."

"Fuck you, Lil; it's not like that."

"Isn't it?" I countered.

"I haven't pushed you into anything. I always let you decide everything. Do you know how fucking irritating it is to have zero control over your heart? You come and go like it doesn't..." His words dropped out as he swiftly turned away from me. The anger rolled through his body, causing his muscles to tense in the wake.

"Like it doesn't what?" I pressed, attempting to drown my anger.

"Like it doesn't destroy me every single time you leave again."

"I've never done the leaving." It was silly to say, and I regretted it the moment the words left my lips.

He swiveled, his eyes burning into me. "No, you're worse. You make me leave you over and over."

"What do you want, Billy? Stop focusing on me. Stop trying to be a good guy or a gentleman. What do you want?"

"Did it ever occur to you I'm not trying? Did it ever cross your mind that this is me, that I'm not trying to be a good guy or a gentleman? This is who I am. I'm just a fucking moron that fell in love with..." An unhinged cadence tensed his words and cut off his thought.

"Yes! That's all I think about. You're everything I've ever wanted in a man, sweet and gentle, while also incredibly generous and patient. I can't even fathom how you manage that. And you're the most beautiful boy I've ever laid eyes on in my life. I know you don't see it, but I do, and it kills me." My tone contradicted my words.

Billy fed off the tone. "Well, that's just great. What do I do with that? You're yelling compliments at me. It's unsettling. Everything about you contradicts itself; it's so fucking annoying and... utterly addicting."

"I'm sorry," I yelled back.

"What the hell are you sorry for?"

The tension heightened between us. Billy pulled back to his side of the bed, and I felt my back tilt closer to him.

"For being annoying and addicting," I shot back.

"Will you fucking stay? I just need you to stay, even if it's only for a couple of weeks." His patience had snapped.

"Why? Why do you need me to stay? I drive you nuts."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now? I need a minute. I need a fucking cigarette." He slung on his coat. "Stay," he commanded before curtly turning on his heel. As his hand hit the doorknob, he faltered as reason sunk back into him. "I'm pissed that you don't seem to understand that I love you, that I need you right now and right here." His eyes met mine, and even though anger saturated his tone, his eyes softened. "I'm not mad at you; I'm frustrated that you aren't hearing what I'm trying to tell you. I love you, and..." His voice dropped. "Just don't leave. I'll be right back after I suck down about three packs of cigarettes; twenty minutes tops; I have years of practice."

And with that, the door clicked behind him.