“Er, ok, well, I’ll take you.”
“Fine,” I huffed, scurrying to my room to change quickly. I slipped into some hipster white skinny jeans and a little black strap top that showed a slit of my belly. Obviously, Tatum had been rubbing off on me a lot lately. Speaking of—I swiped my phone from the bedside table and quickly typed out a text to her.
R u ok?
I hadn’t actually replied to her since the party before all this shit exploded. I didn’t even check on her to see if she got home ok. Panic started to set in my gut and my eyes darted around the room.
“She’s ok.”
I turned around to see Nate leaning up against my door frame.
“Jesus. I’m a terrible friend, Nate.”
He shook his head, pushing off the door frame and coming into my room. “No, you’re not. It’s only been one day, and you’ve seen a lot of shit in that one day. Cut yourself some slack.” He flipped his cap backward and his eyes glittered with mischief. “Let’s ride.”
I really freaking wish I had spent more time on my hair and makeup instead of being rushed out the door by my own anxiety. I only managed to splash on some tinted moisturizer and mascara. I leaned up from the plush leather seat, grabbing my cherry lip balm out of my pocket and smothering some on, just enough to make my lips feel kissable. Stupid.
Nate’s matte black 2018 Audi-something pulled to a stop, just outside the front doors to Bishop’s home. I swallowed the memories that this house raised and reached for the door handle. Nate cut off the loud car, halting me with his hand on my other arm.
“Seriously,” I gritted. “How much did this car cost you?”
He shrugged. “Was a present, it’d be rude to not accept.”
“Trust fund brat,” I muttered, just as his door closed. I pushed mine open and got out, noticing Bishop’s matte black Maserati GranTurismo. “Did you make it this low and supped up? Like what is with all of you boys, you all ride in damn near half a million dollar cars and SUV’s, then you guys all modify them to look like something fresh out of Fast and Furious.”
I eyed Nate’s new car. It really was beautiful, even though it was extremely low to the ground. The wheels were splattered with gloss black and the windows were also black.
“Well, dear sister, first of all, have you forgotten we all race?” He quirked his eyebrow, closing my door. “Well, for shits and giggles mostly, and to run shit around town for Hector daddy boss.”
“No, I hadn’t forgotten, I’m just waiting for the time to bombard you all with my millions of questions. I figure if I ask you separately, you’re more inclined to answer me. Whereas if I push all these questions on you all at once, there’s a chance you guys will let a few answers slip and I may not catch them. I’m being thorough.” We were walking through the side gate now, heading straight for Bishop’s pool house. The architecture continued to render me speechless. His pool house was an exact replica of the main house, only smaller, and it was more like a two-bedroom loft, fitted with an open fireplace, a small bar, lush red marble counters, and the stairs that lead to his bedroom were built with glass. Nerves began to eat at me, and I stopped walking, silently freaking out. What if he was in bed with Khales? I couldn’t be mad at him, but I knew it would shatter me. Besides the fact that yes, I had handled things erratically in the past, I didn’t think I’d ever allow another man to physically put his dick in me—no matter how dizzy I may be at the time. Bishop, on the other hand, was a male. And he was—Bishop. Shit.
“Kitty, it’ll be ok. Whatever happens from here, just swallow what you see.”
My eyebrows pulled in together, then I let myself get lost in Nate’s eyes. The comfort of knowing I could trust him eloped me, and I quickly nodded my head. I could do this—regardless, and I needed to do this. I needed to tell him everything and fuck the consequences. We continued toward the pool house and then climbed the little wrap around porch. Adrenaline spiked through me, and just as Nate went to knock (even though I damn well know he never knocked with Bishop or any of the other guys before), I twisted the door handle and pushed open the door. Fuck it. I was Madison fucking Montgomery, and Bishop Vincent mother-fucking Hayes was mine.
There was laughing in the kitchen, then it went silent. Bishop stalked around, my lady parts humming. He looked pissed, and pissed Bishop was always a glorious sight. He was shirtless, the ripples of his tight body on display for me to wander, then my eyes dropped down to his jeans. Slightly loose, with tears and rips in all the right places, bare feet, and then my eyes slowly traveled their way back up again. He had a cap flipped backward, his hair sticking out the edges slightly, a bottle of Jack dangled from between his fingers, and then I zeroed in on his eyes. They hardened on me, and he bared his teeth with a slight hiss, eyeing me up and down in disgust.