“Okay,” I tell her as I watch her retreating back. When I hear her bedroom door close, I turn to Bishop and give him a bit of a chiding look.
“You’ve got quite the burr up your butt,” I tell him, and he snorts. Moving to the fridge, I pull out a carton of eggs and start cracking six of them. I figure that will feed him and me nicely.
“So she apologized, huh?” he says, and by the tone of his voice I can tell without him even knowing what she said that he doesn’t buy a word of it.
“Profusely, and for most of the things that were driving me nuts.”
“What didn’t she apologize for?” he inquires.
“She wasn’t sorry for coming on to you last night,” I mutter, and then feel my cheeks heat up once again, because technically I don’t have the right to be mad about that.
I don’t technically have room to be jealous.
Beating the eggs gives me a respite from saying anything further, so I put some muscle into it.
That is until Bishop’s hand clamps down on my forearm and my whisking comes to a dead stop. He stares at me intently. “She will be sorry if she tries it again,” he says in a low voice filled with the promise of retribution. “And you have every right to be mad about it, Brooke. No matter what led us to this moment, right now I’m yours, and no one should touch what is yours.”
The feeling that sweeps through me is indescribable. Something short of euphoria, but much more intense than joy, tempered with wonderment that perhaps those words are just too magical to believe. I’m left blinking at him stupidly.
His face softens and his lips curl into a tiny smirk. He leans in, presses a kiss to my mouth, and releases me.
I have no clue what just happened, but I start whisking the eggs again until they’re light and frothy. Grabbing a pan from a bottom cupboard, I set it on the stove to preheat and head back to the fridge for some butter.
“Are you going to let her stay here like she asked?” Bishop asks me as he settles onto a stool on the other side of the kitchen island.
I cut a few pats of butter and toss them into the pan. “I guess. I mean…she apologized for the things that matter. So what reason would I have for asking her to leave?”
“Because she didn’t mean that apology,” Bishop says, and wow, he just really doesn’t like her. “Because she was just saying that to calm you down and ensure her ability to stay here longer. You’re going to regret it, Brooke.”
“So I just ask her to pack up and leave?” I ask him. “Because I really don’t think I can do that. It’s just…too confrontational. I mean, if she hadn’t apologized, sure, but I have to give her the benefit of the doubt right now, don’t I?”
“You’re a lot nicer than I am, Brooke,” Bishop replies softly. “That’s the difference. If in your heart you think the right thing to do is let her stay, I’ve got your back. And when she does something to fuck you over or becomes a big pain in your ass again, I’ll be the best boyfriend ever and won’t say I told you so.”
I turn to look at him and see he’s grinning broadly at me, green eyes sparkling with amusement.
“You’re way too sweet,” I say dryly, and turn back to the pan.
“But seriously,” Bishop adds. “I’ve got your back. Do what you think is right, and that’s all that matters.”
“Okay,” I tell him as I pick up the bowl with the eggs and pour them into the sizzling pan. “But let’s stop talking about it. You have a game tonight and you need to start getting in game mode. So no more talking about Nanette or anything else that will cause you to lose focus.”
“You make me lose focus,” Bishop says, and my head whips around so hard my temples throb.
He laughs at my startled expression. “Sorry, babe, but it’s true. And tonight, after the game, I want to really regain that focus right on that delicious body of yours.”
More heat flushes through my face and other body parts this time. I can’t believe I’m trying to focus him on the game and he’s absolutely rattling me to the core. How he can go from having a serious discussion and being overprotective of me one minute, to talking about sex the next is beyond me. But the fact that he’s throwing me off and making me feel like I’m teetering on the edge of a cliff is some of what makes me like him so much.
Too much, I think.Chapter 22BishopAfter pulling into the players’ parking lot outside the arena, I turn the car off and pull my phone out. My mom and I have been playing phone tag today, starting with me missing her call while I was taking a power nap this afternoon. I called her back as soon as I woke up, but got her voicemail. She’d called me back just a few minutes ago but I was on the phone with Brooke while driving to the arena. She had been telling me that Nanette was acting completely different and almost solicitous. She was still skeptical that this was only for show so she wouldn’t get kicked out, and I had to agree with her.