Chapter 17

Bishop

Finally having my breath return and the strength in my arms to do so, I roll off Brooke and collapse to my back beside her on the bed. With my eyes on the ceiling, I feel her move rather than see her, a slight shifting of the pillow we share.

“It was nice not to have to keep that quiet,” she says in a voice raspy from too much screaming.

My head rolls and I look at her. Her face is inches from mine, those amber eyes with gold specks staring right at me and her mouth forming a crooked smile. I grin back at her before giving her a quick kiss. “Always better when you can just let it all out.”

And since Nanette hadn’t come back with us, Brooke held nothing back. I might have roared to the heavens myself when I finally let loose and came so hard I was convinced I’d stroke out.

“Let me go get cleaned up,” I tell her as I roll off the bed.

“Okay,” she murmurs, and rolls the opposite way. She’ll put on panties and a T-shirt to sleep in as has become her habit. Makes it a little more difficult in the morning to get to her good parts—because I love waking her up that way—but I like a challenge.

By the time I make it back out of the bathroom, Brooke is sitting cross-legged in the bed with the comforter pulled up over her lap. Head bent over her phone, her thumbs are flying over the screen.

“There’s a bottle of water on the table,” she says to me without looking up.

I slip under the covers without bothering with my underwear. I don’t mind sleeping nude or clothed, but since I’m already naked, I just dive right in. I grab the bottle, open it, and take several long pulls. By the time I’ve returned it to the table, Brooke is leaning over to put her phone on her nightstand.

“That was Nanette,” she says as she turns back to face me, still sitting cross-legged. “Texted to say she’s staying with Dax tonight.”

“Now that’s surprising,” I muse out loud as I lean back against the headboard, placing my hand on Brooke’s knee. No clue why…just feels right. “I really thought it would be Erik.”

“Me too,” she says with a laugh.

When Brooke and I called it an early night after two beers, we’d left Nanette happily accepting the attentions of three hockey players. She told Brooke not to wait up for her or worry. I gave meaningful looks to all three of them, then added to Dax as I walked out, “Make sure whoever she goes with tonight gets her home safe.”

“Always, brother,” he said in return.

I just didn’t think it would be Dax.

Not that Dax wouldn’t have been good enough for her. In fact, he’s the best dude out of the three, in my opinion. I just thought Erik would win the evening, as he’s the most aggressive and charming at the same time.

But good for Dax. Hope whatever he gets tonight is good and worth having to listen to Nanette to get it.

I feel comfortable saying this to Brooke, because I didn’t sense any major warm fuzzies between the two women tonight. Nanette only paid attention to the men, which was fine by me. That meant I had Brooke’s attention.

“Can I ask you a question?” I think it’s a given I can, but I sort of want to set the tone that this is somewhat serious.

“Yeah, sure.” Her expression is open and unguarded.

“Maybe it was just me…but Nanette sort of seems full of herself,” I say to Brooke, deciding not to pull any punches.

“Picked up on that, huh?” she says with a laugh, but then her expression sobers slightly. “But that wasn’t a question.”

“I guess I’m curious as to why you’re friends with her.” My hand squeezes her knee. “You two couldn’t be more different.”

It took only half an hour of watching and I knew the type of woman she was. She flirted way too heavily and suggestively, pulled her mirror out of her purse twice to put on lipstick and fluff her hair, also checking out every other aspect of her face. If the guys tried to include Brooke in the conversation, Nanette would interject and turn the spotlight right back onto herself. She was conceited, and to my surprise, slightly vapid, yet she tried to overcompensate for what she lacked upstairs with her looks.

“We worked together for over five years,” Brooke explains. “We went out together sometimes at night, often with other work people. Had lunch at other times. She was a friend. A coworker. But we weren’t close. I think you know what I mean when I say Nanette isn’t the type to get close to other females.”

“Because her self-esteem can’t handle not having the attention taken away from her,” I conclude. “So why in the hell would she come visit?”

Brooke shrugs. “I expect it’s so she could take a few days off, have a free place to stay, and have access to hot hockey players.”

“How long is she staying?” I ask.

“A week,” she returns with a groan, and leans back against the headboard, lacing her fingers over her stomach. She rolls her head to look at me. “Let’s hope she stays with Dax the whole time.”

Chuckling, I nod toward her nightstand. “Turn your light out.”

She does, and then I’m pulling her into my arms as we settle down into the pillows. I’ve found I like her slight frame resting against me at night, and she snuggles in before twining her legs with mine.

Reaching an arm out, I turn off my light and her arm tightens around my stomach.

It’s silent for a moment, but I’m not tired and I have no intention of going to sleep right now. I still have one thing I need to talk to her about.

“I had an interesting conversation with your dad after the San Francisco game,” I tell her, the darkness somehow making it easier to talk about this.

Brooke’s head lifts from my chest to look at me, but all she’ll see is shadows. I press my hand to her head, forcing it gently back down. I continue. “I didn’t say anything at first, but I’ve been thinking on it a lot and I think we might have a problem.”

Before I can process it, Brooke is scrambling out of my arms, rolling in the bed, and the light on her side comes on. I blink against it for a moment before I can focus on her. She merely turns back toward me, bracing her head on her palm. Her eyes are expectant and she waits for me to continue, not saying a word about why she turned on the light.

I expect it’s because Brooke doesn’t want any secrets at all between us, and potentially there could be something hidden on my face in the dark.

Taking in a deep breath, I turn on my side to face her, also resting my head on my hand so we’re staring at each other, eye to eye. “He really pressured me about the engagement after the game.”

“Like how?”

“Wanted to know what was going on, and when I told him we were talking about it, he blustered a little. Didn’t understand what there was to talk about, said I should have just bought you a ring already.”

“Damn,” Brooke mutters, and her eyes go soft with apology. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” I warn her with a growl. “This isn’t on you. But when he kept pushing at me, he asked me point blank if I loved you.”

Brooke winces.

“And I had to say yes, Brooke. I had to look him right in the eye and tell him I did, and that you were my everything.”

She doesn’t say anything for a moment, her gaze dropping to my chest. When she looks up at me, her voice is hesitant. “Well…another week and we can put this all behind us. We can just hold on a little while—”

I shake my head and reach out to take the hand that’s resting on the mattress. I lace my fingers with hers. “Don’t you see, we can’t do this next week, Brooke. I just looked your dad in the eye and told him I loved you. We break this off next week like we’d planned, your dad is going to know I’m full of shit.”

“Oh God,” she says in a small voice as the realization of what I just said hits her. “But—but—what are we going to do? Should I just cop to my dad that this was all my stupid idea?”

“No fucking way,” I say gruffly, not willing to let Brooke take the fall for this. We were in it together now.

And then she does what I sort of hoped she would. “Maybe we should keep this going for a little while longer. I mean, the team is doing so well and I don’t want anything mess it up.”

Oh yeah…I like that idea a lot. More time with Brooke while we figure out a good way out of this shit.

“I think we should do a fake engagement,” I say with determination.

Her eyes bug out. “A fake engagement?”

“Yeah, keep your dad off my back completely. Give us some breathing room. He can concentrate on being a coach, and I can concentrate on the game and—”

“It’s a good solution,” she breaks in on me, and I let out a slow and silent breath of relief. “Is that weird?”

“Totally not weird,” I assure her with a wave of my hand, but this is the weirdest fucking thing I’ve ever been involved in in my life. I am absolutely aware of just how harebrained this entire thing is. I would never say it out loud, but fuck, we should have come clean the moment he busted into her office and caught us, and probably a million times after that.

We should just goddamn come clean right now.

But instead I’m plotting a fake engagement because I don’t want it to end yet, but I also don’t know where I want it to go either. I just know that this past week has been amazing with Brooke and she’s the only woman I’ve ever been with that makes me excited to see what tomorrow will bring.

So yeah…fake engagement it is.

“How would we go about this?” Brooke asks, her voice sounding a little too brisk and professional as if we’re negotiating a business deal.

I slide my fingers across her cheekbone, over her ear and to the back of her head to hold her in place. Leaning in, I give her a devilish smile. “That’s for me to figure out. I’ll handle the details.”

“You can’t buy a ring,” she says looking horrified.

“Stop worrying about it, Brooke,” I murmur, and lean in to kiss her.

She pulls back. “But—”

“Stop talking, Brooke, or I’ll occupy that mouth with something that will make it impossible for you to say anything.”

I get a husky laugh and she leans in to nip my bottom lip.

That leads to another kiss, deeper this time, and before long we’ve forgotten about fake engagements, her dad, Nanette, and everything else in the world.