When my eyes fluttered open in the morning, Billy's arms still encircled me. It surprised me how awake I was at 8 am. I slipped into the shower welcoming the warming comfort. Once ready for the day, I headed to the lobby for tea. 

"Lily," the familiar Midwest voice boomed close behind me, but it was off just slightly. 

I turned to find Tim standing behind me. 

"You're up early," I stammered in surprise. 

"Well, I wasn't up late yelling at people," he shrugged.

"You heard us?" I scrunched up my face as he nodded a confirmation of my fear. 

"Can't lie; that wasn't the type of noise I expected to seep through the walls."

"How is he, Tim? How is he really?" I pressed. 

"Have you asked him?" He countered. 

"Yeah, and now I'm asking you."

"It's early, and I haven't eaten; blood sugar and all that..." He fluttered his hands to dismiss me. 

I fished around my bag and pulled out one of the lollipops I stocked for late-night study sessions. "Here," I announced. "For your blood sugar."

Tim inspected the lollipop and then headed to one of the overstuffed lobby chairs and plopped down. He ripped the wrapper off and tossed it down to the side table. "Okay," he began as I settled in a chair across from him. "Start again," he finished as he tucked the lollipop in his mouth. 

"How is he, Tim?"

Tim pulled the lollipop from his mouth and gazed at it as he gathered his words. "He's paralyzed. We all see the path before him, but he won't budge."

"Why?"

"Billy ever talk about Pops?" Tim asked as he met my gaze. 

"Pops?" My brow furrowed as I tried to remember Billy ever mentioning Pops. 

"His dad; passed a few years back. He was a great man; fair, kind, solid. You always knew everything was going to be alright if Pops was around. He just had that way about him."

"That's where Billy gets it," I smiled. 

"Mmhmm, except Billy wasn't really built for it."

"He has brothers; they can help." 

Tim let out a chuckle and once again inspected his lollipop. "Here's the thing, Lilipop; Billy doesn't ask for help. He's got a bit of the Scrappy Doo in him, being the youngest and all. I can only remember twice in the past decade the dude asked for help."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm, once was a couple of months ago when he asked me to come along on the tour with him."

"That was my idea." It bubbled from me. 

"Yeah? Huh," Tim pondered. 

"When was the other time?" I pressed. 

Tim let out a laugh. "Can I give you a piece of advice that I never seem to follow and always regret?"

"Sure," I shrugged, uncertain where he was headed. 

"When the quiet guy speaks, listen." He pulled himself up from the chair. "You have a good morning, Lilipop."

"Timmy," I called out as I shot up for the chair. 

He turned to face me, his cheek stretching around the candy in his mouth. 

"Thank you."

"He's my best friend, Lily Turncott; my brother. There isn't much I wouldn't do for him. I like you; I really do, but you fuck with my boy, and I promise that I won't be bought off with a shitty lollipop and a sad face."

"Tim..."

"Just listen to him. If you can't do that, find the door."

I watched Tim pace away, knowing he was right. Billy asked for my help. I had to listen to him. I returned to the room and set a cup of tea on Billy's nightstand before settling into a biography of Tesla.

"You're beautiful in the morning." Billy smiled over at me, his face still groggy from sleep.

A brief laugh escaped me. "How would you know, love? I got up hours ago."

He pulled himself up to look at the clock. "Sorry, I once was a morning person." He reached for the nondescript coffee cup on his nightstand. "No coffee?"

"Just try the tea." I scolded.

He glowered, but shifted upright. I watched as he took a tentative sip of the tea.

"So, I've been thinking." There was bubbling inside me.

Billy focused his attention on me.

"I usually take a couple of weeks off in the summer just to relax."

"Yeah," Billy set his tea down. 

"Mmhmm."

"So, does that mean?" There was a spark in his eyes, but he was tempering his response.

"So, wait; you're happy, right? You still want me to come."

A smile broke across his face. "I'm playing it cool, so, I don't scare you away."

"Such a foolproof plan, except you just told me. There's nothing less cool than trying to be cool." I curled to his side.

"I'm not Wanda Jackson," he teased. "How long can you stay?" A kiss landed on the top of my head.

"I was thinking we start with two weeks with the option to extend if you want to be stuck with me for that long." Self-consciousness filled me.

"I've never wanted anything more in my entire life."

His eyelashes fluttered towards me before his lips crashed on mine, and I lost my senses.

"I hope no one asks how I spent my summer vacation."

"Why? Traveling, meeting new people, falling head over heels in love with a charming gentleman."

"I'm going to cheat on you."

"Don't be mean." But his dimples clouded his faux hurt. "I have to warn you of an unsavory aspect of the road..."

I quizzically looked at him.

"Tim. He's always around."

"I think I like him. I'm excited to get to know him. I feel like we're going to be really good friends."

"Careful; if you befriend him you're stuck with him. He's like a drunken tattoo. You regret it, but you can't admit it, or people will never let you forget it."

"You're kinda mean to him," my head dropped to his chest.

"It's allowed. Tim wouldn't want it any other way." Billy's hand smoothed over my hair.

"This is my favorite place," I murmured in his arms with only a sheet pulled around us in the early summer heat.

"Boston is nice." His thumb glided over the small of my back, sending tickling sparks through my stomach.

"I meant in your arms."

His arms constricted around me, but his face stayed placid.

"You doubt me."

"It's not a doubt about you. I don't always understand you." His eyes cast down again, shielded by his purple eyelids.

"You don't understand what?" My finger traced over the tender skin beneath one of his eyes.

"How I pulled a girl like you." A chuckle moved through his chest.

"Yeah? Tell me your worst qualities."

"Oh, I hear I sweat a lot and struggle with ice." He kissed the crown of my head. "Say yes to me again," his lips curled into a smile in my hair.

"I'm in," I said, pulling my face to his.

"You're in?" His face hovered inches from mine.

I focused on the thick feathers of his eyelashes.

"I'm in," I smiled.

His lips crashed into mine again, but this kiss wasn't tender. It was urgent and fervently uncoordinated, more blood-boiling than his controlled endeavors. It was organically Billy. Without breaking the kiss, he scooped me up in his arms, so I sprawled across his frame and clung to his thick neck.

He broke away to scrutinize me with a smile. "You're going to come with me?"

"Yes," the word came out as a whisper as I curled into his chest, wishing I could melt entirely into him and fortify him against any fear he had. My lips danced up and down his neck.

"I can get singularly focused." His words were urgent.

"Huh?"

"My worst quality. I can fixate on things, and it can make me absent." Billy's hand lifted from my back and smoothed my hair. "If I do, tell me. Don't let us pull away from each other."

"I'll try, but I get in my head. That's my worst quality. I'm terrible at talking about feelings, and I can be an ice princess."

"Who would call you that?" There was a visceral response that tensed his muscles.

"Oh, pretty much everyone. It's true. You've first-hand experience of how terrible I am in relationships."

"I think you're cautious, not terrible." He was still smoothing my hair.

I lifted from his chest to meet his eyes. "Billy, I'm not cautious. Don't expect something I can't offer."

"This isn't so bad." There was a curl to the edge of his words.

"Since I'm staying, we don't have to be so virtuous." My lips danced over the sensitive skin of his neck.

"True, but we have weeks of this ahead of us. We need to learn moderation."

"Moderation is for chumps," but I rolled off him in defeat.

"Do you need to go to work tomorrow, or can you find coverage?"

His question made me smile.

"Keeping your job is important to your goals," he resolved.

"It's like you're always trying to get a cookie. But then, when I dangle a pretty sweet cookie in front of you, you talk about moderation."

"It's creepy that you're calling sex a cookie."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm sure I can get tomorrow covered; everyone wants time and a half. I need to go home and get a few more things. I only packed for a weekend."

"We play the same place again tonight and are off tomorrow, then New York on Monday. Do you want to head up today or tomorrow?"

"If we head up tomorrow, can we stay the night in Portland? My roommates went to NYC for a long weekend. We'd be alone."

"Whatever you want." He smiled and pulled me to him for a kiss. "This is going to be good," he added.