IF BISHOP WAS AN ADDICTION, then I never wanted a cure.
For the next couple of weeks, we bounced from his apartment to mine, losing ourselves in each other. When we weren’t in bed, he showed me more than the city. He showed me a life I desperately wanted to claim as my own.
With each day, I fell harder. I was in so much damn trouble, because I didn’t know how I was going to walk away from him when the order came. Every day I waited for the text, but it didn’t come. No more cryptic and accidental voice mails either, which I tried not to let stab me in the heart. Dom didn’t know where I was, and apparently he’d decided he didn’t care.
I pushed down that familiar disappointment and focused on all the good around me.
Bishop had become an integral part of my happiness, and the simple life I was living here was more than enough for me. I’d even started helping out with the books at both Voodoo and Your Favorite Hole, putting my skills to work.
Everything felt so . . . right.
But that didn’t mean it was perfect.
“No.”
The word came out of Bishop’s mouth with more force behind it than I expected, and his entire demeanor changed with it.
We were curled up on my bed, and the easy postcoital moment was broken. I pushed up on my elbow, my hand resting on his chest, and looked down at him.
“What do you mean, no?”
It wasn’t like I’d never heard the word before. No had been a common concept in my life in New York. It just wasn’t something I’d expected to hear Bishop say when it came to something so simple as finally going to the casino so I could learn to play blackjack at a real table.
“No, as in I don’t fucking go to casinos. They’re not a good place for me.”
Without another word, he rolled to his side, dislodging my hand, and climbed out of bed. He reached for his jeans on the floor and yanked one pant leg on and then the other. He zipped and buttoned them and turned from the room before I could even figure out how to respond.
I scrambled out of my side of the bed, grabbing his T-shirt and pulling it on. Everything felt off. I’d seen Bishop shut down like this around other people, but never around me. I didn’t know what to make of it. He had the fridge door open in the small kitchen, and I spoke to his back.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t realize that was a touchy subject for you. I can . . . go by myself. It’s no big deal.”
He slammed the fridge door shut and turned. “And who’s going to teach you how to play blackjack? Some random guy who happens to see a sweet thing at the table and decides she’s the one he wants to take home?”
The statement came out with sharp edges, and I jerked back. Was he . . . ? No way. I blurted it anyway.
“Are you jealous?”
Bishop’s big hands landed on his hips and he drew up to his full height, dwarfing me in the tiny kitchen. If he were anyone else, I might have felt a shred of unease, but not with Bishop.
“Of course I’m fucking jealous, Eden. I know exactly what every man sees when he looks at you. You’re totally oblivious to the fact that they’d trip all over themselves to get closer to you.”
Now I was getting angry. “Of course I’m oblivious to all of that. I only see you!” I yelled the words across the kitchen with my own hands on my hips like some kind of shrew.
Bishop’s face relaxed and the tension in his stance drained away. He crossed the small space between us and cupped my face in his hands.
“I know, cupcake. And I’m the luckiest guy in the goddamned world because of it. I just don’t want to see anything happen to you. I couldn’t handle it.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me. There’s security, and even if there wasn’t, I’m not completely helpless.”
I’d even walked home from work all by myself several times in the last couple of weeks. Never mind that I never walked home alone if I worked until dark. That was just being smart, I assured myself.
Something that approached a growl escaped from Bishop’s throat. “Security at a casino isn’t your friend. They have one purpose and one purpose only—protect the interests of the house at all costs. That’s it.”
“Well, I’m checking this off my damn list, and if you won’t come with me, then what choice do I have?”
“And what is your goddamned hurry, Eden?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. This was a question I kept dodging, and Bishop was well aware I wasn’t giving him a straight answer. “I thought we decided we weren’t going to talk about that?”
“Like you never told me the real story behind why you skipped out on the hotel? You’re going to have to talk about it sometime, unless you plan to just up and leave without telling me a damn thing.”
I wanted to tell him everything. Every day that I kept my silence ate at me. I couldn’t keep this from him any longer. It was time.
He dropped his hands away from my face and jammed them into his hair, then turned away to face the counter. “Of course you’d have to be this stubborn. Why would I fall for someone who was easy to get an answer from?”
Everything in the room seemed to come to a screeching halt, except for my heart, which hammered harder than ever before.
“You’re falling for me?” My voice carried a tremble.
Bishop spun around to face me, his hair wild and his gaze intense. “How couldn’t I? You’re . . . everything.”
My head jerked back at his admission, and warmth slammed into my chest.
You’re everything.
The look in his eyes said it all. He meant it.
“You’re everything too.”
His arms closed around me and he pulled me against his chest, lifting me off my feet.
I soaked up his warmth, his scent, his everything. Even with 4.2 million men in New York, I knew I’d never find someone like Bishop. He was it.
And I can’t keep him.
No. I refused to let that stand. I wasn’t going to let this go and walk away from him. I’d figure out a way. There was no other option.
When he loosened his hold and lowered me back to the floor, determination flowed through me. I would figure this out.
“Let’s get you fed so you can get ready for work.”
I lifted up on my toes and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Okay.”