“You don’t have to hide behind hoodies and sunglasses anymore. I can pick you up whenever and wherever.”
I stop pacing and spin to face him. He’s still naked. And so am I. He still has a semi, and I’m anxious. “That can’t happen, Bishop. We can’t be seen in public together.”
“Why the hell not?”
Because I’ve worked too hard not to be Rook Bowman’s sister just to end up as Bishop Winslow’s girlfriend. My phone rings before I can open my mouth to share that, and like an idiot I answer the call.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all morning! What the hell is going on?” Awesome. Now I get to deal with my angry brother.
“Hi, RJ.” I yank the bedsheet free and wrap it around myself, because it feels weird to talk to my brother when I’m not fully dressed.
“Seriously, Stevie? You’re making out with Winslow in public now?”
“Relax, RJ, it was just a kiss. It’s not like he stole my virtue or anything. That’s been gone since junior year of high school.”
Bishop makes a noise that sounds a lot like a growl, but my brother continues his angry tirade, forcing me to give him my attention. “I did not need to know that, and it’s not the point. Winslow was told to keep his damn hands off you while you were working together, and clearly that’s a bunch of bullshit. How long has this been going on?”
This has so much potential backlash: things I hadn’t considered in the heat of the moment, like Bishop getting in trouble. So I do the only thing I can think of as triage. “It was me. I kissed Bishop. He came with me to the event as a favor because Joey was going to be there with a date, and I didn’t want to go alone. This is on me; it’s my mistake.”
Bishop opens his mouth to speak, but I give him a warning glare and a headshake.
“Are you still with him?”
“No. I’m alone right now.”
“I’m coming over.”
“No. You’re not. I have shit to do today that doesn’t include you reaming me out for making out with someone you don’t like. I already told you: I made a mistake. I don’t need you to make me feel worse about it. I have to go. I’ll call you later.” I don’t wait for him to answer before I end the call and toss the phone on my bed.
My bed that smells like sex and Bishop.
“Why’d you do that?” Bishop asks quietly.
“To get you off the hook with my brother and your teammates.”
“And did you mean that?”
“Mean what?” I rub my temple, exhausted, even though I’ve only been awake for a handful of minutes.
“That this was a mistake.” He motions between us.
“I don’t know, Bishop. I just . . . didn’t expect all the attention. It’s not something I want, and it never has been.” I sigh and turn away. “I have to take down decorations today.”
“Pattie and Jules said they would deal with that,” he reminds me. “Or is this you telling me you want me to leave?”
“I need time to think. I’ve spent a lot of years avoiding my brother’s spotlight, and now I’m in it in a way I never wanted to be. I don’t know how to deal with it at all.” I can’t look directly at him because if I do I’m afraid of what he’ll see. That I don’t want him to go at all. That I’m scared and confused and I don’t want what’s supposed to be ours to be everyone else’s as well.
“Right. Yeah. I get it. I guess I’ll see you when I see you.” He bends to pick his clothes up off the floor and heads down the hall without another word. Several seconds later the door clicks, and I crumple in a heap on my bed that smells like last night’s decisions.
I think I just broke my own heart.
CHAPTER 25
THAT WENT WAY WRONG
Bishop
How I’d planned to start my morning: inside Stevie.
How my morning actually went: not at all like I’d planned.
I do the walk of shame across the hall naked, holding all my clothes. Thankfully, no one is there to witness it. My brother isn’t home, so I don’t have to deal with him, which is a good thing because I’m pretty much in the mood for nothing and no one. Talk about a shitty end to the best sex I’ve had in . . . well . . . ever.
I don’t want to wash the smell of Stevie off me, but I realize going to practice smelling like sex after a viral make-out video goes live isn’t a great plan, so I jump in the shower and head to the arena. I get stopped by Alex before I can step foot in the locker room. “We need to have a chat.”
Obviously he’s seen the video. “I can explain.”
“I don’t want an explanation. I want you to shut your damn mouth and listen.” I follow him down the hall, away from the sound of my teammates, to his office. Alex motions me inside and forcefully shuts the door. “Sit down.”
I follow the order and keep my mouth shut, unsure how this is going to play out. A flash of inconvenient memory pops up—one of me with my head between Stevie’s legs.
“Wipe that smirk off your damn face.” He slaps a palm on the desk, startling me.
I sit up straighter. “Sorry.”
He drops into the chair behind his desk instead of the club chair beside me, which tells me a lot about his frame of mind. One of the reasons Alex is such a successful coach is that he treats us all as equals. Right now, I’m not his equal at all. I’m the problem, and he’s the coach.
“I asked one thing from you, and you couldn’t follow through. Do you understand how that video looks?”
“It wasn’t a—”
He cuts me off, his voice rising with anger. “You were supposed to keep it professional while you were being rehabbed. That was it. Instead you’re all over social media making out with the person who was rehabbing you. It’s like a blatant ‘Fuck you’ to me. To this organization. Is that what you meant to do?”
Until this very moment I hadn’t looked at it that way, but I can see how he and everyone else would. Which is a bit of an eye-opener. I try to come up with some kind of defense for my behavior. “I’m back on the ice, though, so technically I did keep it professional while I was being rehabbed.”
“That’s not the damn point!” He slams his fist on his desk, making the water glass rattle. He takes a few deep breaths and flips his laptop open. Spinning it around, he cues up the video that’s gone viral. The one of me making out with Stevie. It seems a lot more graphic and intense on a larger screen. “Do you have any idea how this looks from the other side?”
Like soft-core porn is the first thought that comes to my mind, but I don’t think it’s what he wants to hear. When I don’t answer right away, he barrels on.
“This whole thing makes it look like you’re not serious about your rehab at all, or your teammates, for that matter, or my goddamn orders.”
“I’ve been working my ass off.”
“Based on this, it looks like you’ve been doing a hell of a lot more than that.” Alex pinches the bridge of his nose. “Rehab with Stevie is done.”
“But—”
“There are no buts, Bishop. We laid out the rules, and you shat all over them.”