Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“Did you like living in New York?” he asks.
“Loved it. Miss it a lot.”
“Yeah…I liked it a lot too.”
“At least you’ll get to travel there during the season,” I say.
There’s another moment of silence and I wait for his thoughts. I’m starting to realize that Bishop doesn’t make idle conversation.
When his voice comes through in the dark, I’m surprised by the change of subject. “Why did you decide on a one-night stand with me?”
“I’m a modern woman,” I reply, starting to defend my actions. “There’s nothing wrong with casual sex and—”
“No…not why you decided to have a one-night stand,” he says with enough emphasis I realize I missed his meaning. “But why with me? You had other guys hitting on you and more to come, I’m sure.”
“Are you looking at me to stroke your ego?” I tease him.
“When I want you to stroke something, I’ll tell you,” he mutters. “But I think the reason you chose me speaks a lot to the type of woman you are, and I’m curious if my suspicions are right.”
Now that’s interesting and I want to know what those suspicions are. “Because you didn’t presume to know what I wanted. You asked me what you could do to get some conversation rather than just thinking I wanted a drink, or that I wanted attention. Perhaps I was just there for some alone time to have a drink or two to relax after a busy day. You didn’t automatically assume I wanted a one-night stand.”
“No, I didn’t,” he confirms. “But I was hoping.”
That is funny and adorable all at once and I don’t hold back on my laugh. He presses his hand into my belly, as if he’s trying to feel my humor rather than just listen to it.
“You looked like a decent guy, Bishop,” I tell him to further answer his question. I’m no longer laughing, but if he’s as intuitive as I think he is, he can hear the smile in my words. “You looked like you’d treat me well, even if it was for only one night.”
I can feel his smirk somehow. Can actually feel it in the dark in the way his body moves slightly. He confirms I’m right when he points out, “You screamed my name out to the heavens that first night. I totally treated you well.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” I mutter.
“Doesn’t matter,” he says dismissively, and then throws me for an absolute loop that has my head spinning. “You think there’s the possibility that we can really just truly enjoy our time with each other over the next few weeks while we perpetrate this scam on your dad and the team?”
“You mean like date for real?” I ask him for clarification, because I think that’s what he’s asking. It feels like a grade school “will you go steady with me” kind of thing.
“Well…not for real,” he begins by explaining, and I’m dropped back down to earth. “I mean, we both know how it will end and that we’re going to break this off without anyone’s feelings getting hurt. But…I’m proposing you and I focus not so much on the pretending aspect but more on the having fun with each other.”
“You mean sex,” I say dryly. Which is fine. I mean…the sex is off-the-charts hot and better than anything I could have ever imagined.
“That’s part of the fun,” he replies just as dryly. “But I’m talking about more. We’ll go out together, and you’ll be traveling with the team, right?”
“That’s the plan,” I tell him. The current director doesn’t like dealing with what he calls “peons” like caterers and hotel staff, so I’m the liaison.
“Good,” he says, and then lays it all out for me. “We have to act like a couple that’s crazy about each other, so let’s have a good time doing it. We already know that we’re perfect for each other in bed and…”
He trails off, as if he doesn’t want to continue his train of thought.
“And?” I prompt.
There’s no moment of silence. No pause while he collects his thoughts. No hesitation. “And you’re really fucking cool, Brooke. I’m thinking this is going to be a fun adventure for both of us.”
“An adventure,” I repeat, testing it out on my lips. Before, it had seemed like a chore or a dreaded job such as cleaning the toilet. But Bishop is proposing we look at the fun side of it, and that’s because, well, I’m not sure, but that’s for another time to discuss. I say it once again, letting the words roll off my tongue without any weight or expectation to them. “An adventure. I like the sound of that.”
Chapter 11
Bishop
It’s totally weird riding to the airport with Brooke.
It shouldn’t be, though, since we agreed that we were going to have fun the next few weeks together. It should be easy and natural, and yet it feels odd. I normally ride to the airport with Dax—via Uber of course—or at least that’s how it’s been for the last three years we’ve been roommates in New York.