I had returned from the motel and was huddled beneath my threadbare comforter, purchased from a second-hand shop in Echo Park the first week I’d arrived. It stank of bad memories. It stank of failing at acting. It stank of someone I could have loved, leaving me in the dust.

The knock on the door was harsh and loud, startling me out of my black cloud of despair. I listened, hearing no movement in the house. The boys were out. As I huddled deeper into my bed, the rap came again, more insistent this time.

I rose from bed, rubbed at my eyes, and took tentative steps toward the living room. Brian had left the lights in the living room on, and I could see the silhouette of someone standing at the door. Someone tall, over six foot, with broad shoulders and wild dark hair. With a start, I realized it was Billy.

He had come back for me.

Even as I rushed toward the door, something else hammered in my chest. A reminder that I’d purchased my one-way ticket to England already. My dealings with Billy had to be over, or else I was going to destroy myself, body and soul. I had to handle myself carefully.

As I opened the door, I had to avert my eyes from his, his stare was so intense. He beamed at me, looking at me as though I was the only woman he ever needed. I blinked rapidly, trying to quell the swell of emotion in my gut.

“Billy,” I began. “What are you doing here?”

He reached forward, gripping my shoulder. He drew me towards him. “Ruby, I couldn’t stay away. I had to see you again. You didn’t really think leaving me at that motel would be the last time you saw me, did you?”

I let myself look at him again. My heart thundered in my chest and I blushed, feeling girlish. He lifted my hand from my side, kissing my palm. “Lady Claire Harrington, I presume?” he murmured.

“Don’t,” I whispered, drawing my hand away. I felt reluctant. “Don’t make me regret what happened. Don’t make me...”

“Regret?” He stepped back, giving me that wry smile. “What would you have to regret?”

I gestured for him to enter. We stood, staring at one another, in the bright light of the corner lamp. The bright light was too much, and I reached out and flicked the switch, plunging the living room and the foyer into darkness.

“I booked a flight back to the U.K.,” I said finally, shrugging. “I used the cash you sent me and I gave up. I’m going home.”

“I see,” he answered, with that foolish grin plastered on his face. I wanted to smack it off of him, or else just kiss him. I felt caught between my lust for him, and anger at the fact I couldn’t have him.

“And anyway, I don’t think it’s a good idea if we…” I trailed off, gesturing toward his body. “You know.”

“No, I don’t know, Ruby,” he said, teasing me. He took a step forward, forcing me to inhale his scent.

Reaching forward, I gripped his T-shirt, twisting it in a small circle on his chest. “Don’t do this to me, Billy. It’s too much.”

Billy sighed, tossing his head back with a moment of abrupt laughter. Stung by his reaction, I gestured awkwardly towards the kitchen, “I can offer you a beer or something?”

After a long moment, he followed me to the kitchen, accepting a beer and popping it open. He eyed the pizza boxes that were stacked against the window, saying, “You sure do like pizza.”

“It’s my roommate,” I sighed, looking down at my feet. “Billy, I want to thank you for paying me so quickly. Really. It’s going to change my life, I think. Going back to the U.K. is the right decision. It has to be.”

Billy shrugged, hopping up on the counter and swinging his legs slightly as he sipped the beer. “Ruby, if I could tell you how successfully the deal actually went, I would. But I don’t think you really want to know.”

He was gloating, now. I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him. “You can’t leave me hanging like that,” I sighed. “It’s unfair. But it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m leaving the continent. How did the deal go? Elaborate.”

Billy sipped the beer again. “You promise you won’t let the truth leave this room?”

Sensing we were walking down a dark path, I nodded slowly, just wanting to keep him there a bit longer. Everything about him was intoxicating. Wild. Like an animal.

“Well, that Clark guy? He’s a goddamn crook.”

My stomach shifted. “Well, obviously. I had a feeling that there wasn’t anything good about him.”

“Absolutely nothing,” Billy affirmed. “He’s a goddamn monster. He ripped off my father, and God knows how many other people just like him. All my dad wanted was to buy a condo and live out the rest of his days in some comfort.”

“Your dad?” Billy hadn’t mentioned anyone but his sister in the days since I’d met him.

“The old bastard hates me, but that doesn’t mean I want someone like Clark Lambert to screw him over. And I’m certainly not going to let him get away with it.”

I shook my head, feeling unsure. “Then how did I play into it? What does buying your own condo have to do with anything?”

“You were the secret to making my scam play out the way it did,” Billy said. “You gave him confidence in me. You showed him I was good for the money, and that compared to you, I was a little bit stupid. It showed that I would do anything to keep you. And that meant finding a top Malibu condo, for a deal.”

“So you gave him money to buy a condo?” I asked, a confused frown on my face. “I still don’t get it.”

“I delivered the funds to him tonight,” Billy said. “But as I met with him, one of my buddies—a real top-notch guy from back in Brooklyn—was robbing his vault from the other side. It really was a remarkable deal. I’m pretty sure my boy ran out of there with about five million.”

My jaw dropped open and I felt a distance gaping between us, more than a mile wide. I had known that we were different. That he was up to no good, when it came to this Clark Lambert deal. But I hadn’t imagined that five million dollars would be stolen, all because of me.

“Ruby, relax,” Billy said, making my blood run cold. “Clark Lambert has stolen far more money from sad suckers like my father than we ever could take from him. He’s been running this scheme for years. And you know what? I checked it out, and he’s here illegally. That should really kill you. I know how hard it was for you to get a visa.”

Reaching into the fridge, I produced more cheap beer, with one for myself this time. After popping the tops, I guzzled half of mine in one long gulp.

“Easy, killer,” Billy laughed.

“No. Not easy, killer,” I said, imitating him with anger. “I just can’t believe you had me play a part in such a huge scheme.”

“You should be honored,” Billy said.

My stomach clenched at the thought of Billy and I celebrating this victory, knocking back shots of tequila, and then diving into bed together—thoughts of the future brighter, with five million dollars lining our bank accounts.

But no. It was too much. It was criminal.

“You should have told me everything before asking me to get involved,” I said, stabbing a finger into Billy’s chest. “I’m an accessory to a crime now! What if I want to come back to the United States, but my name is flagged? What if they come and arrest me in the U.K.? Can you imagine? Dragged away in a cop car?” I huffed, my nostrils flaring.

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have agreed,” Billy said, his eyes twinkling. “With the promise of a few million dollars, awaiting you on the other end? You would have jumped at the chance.”

I shifted, not entirely sure that he was wrong, but I lifted my chin high. “No. I never would have agreed.”

“Well anyway,” Billy continued, leaping back down from the counter. “It seems like you definitely got something out of this. The cash, for one. And you seemed to enjoy yourself last night.”

“Don’t bring that into it,” I snapped, feeling my anger rise.

He snickered at me, taking a step closer. His scent filled my nose, and I felt a heat spreading between my legs, insistent with sudden desire. His smile was ravenous and animalistic, making me feel weak in the knees. Outrage filled me. I lifted my chin, staring at him.

“You had no right to put me in danger like that.”

“Oh yeah? Do I have the right to do this?” he asked. He bridged the divide between us, kissing me with passionate, tight lips. He brought his thick arms around me, pulling me tight to his chest. Without holding back, I wrapped my arms around him. My lips parted, allowing his tongue to run across mine. Something broke inside of me.

I knew I couldn’t refuse him, not now.

I was suddenly grateful that both roommates were out of the house for the night. Reaching up, I stripped him of his suit jacket, unbuttoning it down to his abdomen, and ripping it from his shoulders. He stood in just his suit pants, his muscles glistening in the soft light from the street lamps outside.

“How did we get here?” he said, moving his fingers through my hair. “Did you expect it?”

“Shut up,” I whispered.

I leaned toward him, kissing him and running my tongue along his jaw, his neck, to his chest. I kissed his thick muscles, pressing kisses down his torso, towards his beltline. I undid the button on his pants, ripping off his belt, and revealed his pulsing member below: thick and veiny, my fingers hardly able to wrap around it entirely. Falling to my knees, I closed my eyes and ran my tongue along the ridges of his cock. Then, I dove over it, taking it fully in my mouth. I heard him gasp from above as he grasped at my hair.

I eased my lips up and down his cock, rolling my tongue around and around its girth, taking stock of the texture. Memorizing his every line. He trembled at my touch, at the dripping wetness of my tongue.

After a while, I pulled back, gazing up at him. His face was red, his lips parted. With a gruff motion, he lifted me from the floor and into his chest. I wrapped my legs around his waist, wearing only my t-shirt and pajama shorts. He stripped off my shirt and placed me on the counter to get a better look at me. My breasts bounced and he wrapped his hands around my pale skin, squeezing at the nipples and sending shocks of awareness up and down my spine.

He removed my shorts and spread my legs wide, gazing at the soft pinkness between my thighs. With a jolt, he thrust forward, driving his cock deep into me. We were both naked, sweating, lost in each other’s gasps and each other’s cries. I collapsed into his body, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist. My fingernails found his skin and drew lines down his back, drawing blood. He groaned, clearly loving the mixture of pleasure and pain.

We no longer had to speak. We were communicating in the language of sex, of lust, of complete and immutable pleasure.

We made a mess of the place. After he fucked me on the counter, I pushed him back, tossing him against the couch. Pillows were flung to the floor on either side as I mounted him, riding him and allowing my breasts to bounce in his face. He gripped my ass, clinging to me tight. He whispered to me.

“I knew you wanted this all along.”

He was irresistible. I kissed him longingly, deeply. He flipped me over on the couch, bringing his tongue along the center of my pussy, sucking at the hardness of my clit before running his tongue over and over the lips. I alternated in crying out his name and telling him not to stop.

He didn’t. We didn’t. We found ourselves fucking up against my bedroom door nearly an hour later. Gasping, crying out for more, we flung ourselves onto my mattress. He pushed deep within me, and worked his thumb against my clit. Gazing into his eyes, I felt myself begin to cum. My lips parted.

“Let me cum with you,” he whispered, pressing his lips against mine.

He did, pushing deeper inside me, uniting us. We came in an explosion of fireworks, of lust, our muscles jerking, and my pussy tightening around his cock. After a long, roaring orgasm, we stared into each other’s eyes for a long time. He pulled me close to his chest, and we lay together, panting with release. I felt exhausted, wanting only to be wrapped in his arms.

His heat and his smell rushed around the room, colliding with everything. I realized, in a horrible moment, that when I unpacked my bag in my mother’s house, I’d be able to smell him. I would remember this moment. And I’d crave him again, instantly.

“This was a mistake,” I whispered, nudging my nose against his.

“Why?”

“It was just wrong,” I sighed.

“I think we just proved that statement wrong,” Billy said, rising up on his elbow. He blew at my sweat-drenched blond curls, which coiled around my ears. “And I think, if you let me stay, we can try a second round.”

I bit my lip, teetering on letting him stay. But I forced myself to remember my mother, my home, and my old friends. Nothing about Billy would mix with what I was returning to.

I got up from the mattress, reaching for a pair of shorts and a T-shirt from a pile of clean clothes. I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting. The pressure grew in the room.

“You really want me to go, don’t you?” he asked, sounding stunned.

“I really do.” I was reluctant, hating the feeling of the words on my tongue. His body lay, glistening, on my bed, eager and waiting for me. But I was showing him the door.

“I really didn’t want to hurt you with this Clark Lambert bullshit,” Billy said, rising up wiping his forehead. He rolled to the side of the mattress and sat up. “We just couldn’t avoid each other—meeting you was fate.”

“We could have.” I laughed, if only slightly. The anger was returning. I was reminded that he had endangered my life. That Clark Lambert had been robbed, and that Clark Lambert knew my face—in connection with the thief. I shivered, pointing toward the door. “If I’m ever going to get packed to leave the country, then I need you to get out of here.”

Billy scratched the side of his nose, assessing me. “This is really goodbye, isn’t it? You don’t want to find any way of reaching each other, later on in life?”

I imagined it, for a brief moment. Five years down the line, after Clark Lambert had “let it go” or “given up.” When we could come together on the London Eye—be it metaphorical, or not—and “meet each other” properly. Maybe even fall in love, if we wanted to.

“It’s just the wrong time,” I sighed, opening the door and heading out into the living room. I collected his suit, and handed it back to him awkwardly. Strands of my hair stuck to my neck, still sweaty from sex. “I’m sorry.”

I watched him dress. It was the worst few minutes of my life. He slid his boxers over his hips, shrugging, and then pulled his shirt over his shoulders. I tried to memorize his abdomen, his thighs. I tried to remember the way he had cupped my breasts, with such tenderness. Nobody else would ever be like him, and I was sending him away.

I ramped up my outward anger, not wanting to allow him any chance of making me change my mind. I could see him saying one wrong word, smiling at me in a strange way. If it hit me right, I would ask him to marry me, to be with me for the rest of my life. It was dramatic, girlish, and stupid. I fixed my posture and glared at him.

“I hope you never do anything like this to another girl again,” I said.

“What? Make her feel something?” Billy retorted. He finished buttoning his pants and entered the living room to find his shoes. “Make her feel like she’s the only woman I want to be around?”

I didn’t speak. I watched as he reached for the door handle. My head spun with thoughts. You’re making a big mistake. You should tell him to stay. This might be your only chance at love in your life. Why won’t you listen to your gut on this?

Is the gut ever right? Is it ever wrong?

But I let him leave. It was all I could do. I watched as he closed the door behind him, as he cranked on the engine of his sister’s black, beat-up car. I watched as he pulled away from the curb and drove away from Silver Lake, and away from me, as I stood in the center of the living room, unable to breathe. As his taillights disappeared around the corner, I allowed the sob that had been perched in my throat to escape my lips.

That was the last time I would ever see Billy Jay Johnston. I was certain of it. It felt sour, like I had allowed life to pass me by without doing a goddamn thing.