Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“Tate, all that shit doesn’t matter when it comes to that one person, and I know that will be hard for you to hear, but when you get that person, you’ll understand. You could have a million memories and good times with someone, but if that someone is in love with someone else, that single memory doesn’t mean anything up against even one memory of the person they truly love.” I turned back to face the front of the car because my neck felt as though it was cramping up. “I love you, you know this, and I do think Nate has feelings for you, but I had seen him with Tillie too, babe, and I’m not saying this to hurt you. I’m saying this so you can prepare yourself for that day she may turn back up, okay?” I looked in the side mirror and she swept a tear from her cheek, not knowing I could see her.
She cleared her throat. “Yeah, you’re right. I won’t go there again. But I hope she comes back in one piece too. I’m starting to get worried.” Something about her tone told me that this time, she was serious about not sleeping with him.
“Me too.”
“Did we bring snacks?” Tate asked, buckling into her seat belt in front of Bishop and I. She was beside Cash now, with Nate at the very back of the jet—alone. Where he should be. I couldn’t be angry at him. He had been nothing but honest with Tate, but if he had been stringing her along too, I’d be having words with him when we get home. Fucker.
“You don’t need snacks. We just had breakfast. It’s not like we’re flying to Europe.”
“There’s a thought,” she muttered, so quiet I almost missed it. “Oh!” She bent around her seat to look at me. “We should do Europe for your birthday, Mads! Oh my God!”
I shook my head at her, giving her the universal glare that silently screamed ‘shut the fuck up.’
She returned my unspoken words with her own dirty stare. “Oh please. He already knows your fucking birthday is in a couple of weeks. Twat.”
“Is twat your new favorite word?” I asked politely once she had turned back in her seat.
“Apparently. But seriously, we should hit Greece.”
“I just want to get through all this bullshit first.” I looked up at Bishop, who was already watching me.
“It’s cute that you thought I wouldn’t know about your birthday.”
“I guess, but I don’t know. I’ve never made a big deal about my birthday before, so I didn’t see the point in telling you.”
“What? You’ve never had a party?”
I shook my head and squirmed. “Oh, no. Contrary to what you may think, I don’t really like the attention on me.”
His arm came around my shoulders as the seat belt light flickered on. The pilot yapped off about preparing for take-off, just as Bishop’s lips came to my ear. “Actually, Kitty, I know exactly what you’re like.” Then he bit on my earlobe and I had to squeeze the armrest to stop from straddling his lap. My eyes darted down to his destroyed denim jeans and how they hung casually off his slim waist. His other hand came to his crotch. He squeezed his junk. My eyes shut and I sucked in a breath of air.
“Like what you see, Kitty?” His voice vibrated over my flesh.
“Bishop…” I warned through a shaky breath.
He chuckled and pulled away from me, leaning back in his chair. “Because I need you focused, I won’t fuck you up against the wall in the back cabin, but on the way home…”
Needing to take my mind out of Bishop and his sexcapades, I pulled my phone out and opened Spotify. Grabbing my ear pods out of my pocket, I untangled them and put them into my ear. The plane began speeding down the runway and I watched as the asphalt slowly started to disappear, and all that was in view was the thick clouds and the sinking city. One of my ear pods getting pulled out of my ear snapped me out of my daydream and Bishop took my phone from me.
“Listen to this song...” Out of any other guy’s mouth, that would be cheesy, but this was Bishop. He wasn’t cheesy. He wasn’t a broken ass loved-up fool. He was just Bishop. Once you knew him, his name alone was like warm, rich hot chocolate sliding down your throat on a snowy winter’s day. With added whiskey…
“Sure.” I smiled at him. He started flicking through my music, and then he pushed play on a song that had an electric guitar opening it. A guy’s smooth voice filled my ears. By the time the hook came in, I had goosebumps breaking out over my skin. The lyrics, the electric sound, the fact that this song meant something to Bishop. I was about to choke on the rock of emotion that had appeared in my throat.