23. Lennox
lennox
. . .
The Morning After
Oh God. Everything hurt. Why did everything hurt? I wasn’t even drunk by the time we got home. At least not if we were talking about alcohol.
Bishop and his dick, on the other hand, was another matter entirely.
Sure, I’d only tasted it for a minute before Taco Bell chipped away at my pride.
Food poisoning was a bitch, but I was confident in my ability to ask for a chance to redeem myself.
Especially after sneaking into the bathroom and freshening up.
I know I didn’t take my makeup off before going to sleep. I probably looked like a mess.
I had no idea what time it was, or even where my clothes and purse were, but I didn’t care as I burrowed deeper into his pillow and sucked in a deep breath. He smelled delicious. It was all masculine and rugged—sage and firewood and fresh coffee.
I could picture him sitting in the middle of a wide field in worn chaps, brewing a cup over an open flame before the sun came up. A moment of perfect stillness.
I stretched out, reaching across the bed for his warmth, but found none. I cracked an eye, hating how bright his room was already. Did he not own curtains?
The spot beside me was empty and looked like it had been for some time. Not completely unsurprising. He wasn’t the type to lounge around in bed all morning, even if we’d both had a long night.
Dad normally cooked breakfast on Sunday mornings, but I was content to skip it if it meant spending more time here.
There was something so strange about being in his space.
Most of the time when I woke up in a strange place, I hightailed it out of there before the sun came up.
I didn’t stay around for awkward conversations or the “should I call you?” conversations. I was never interested in that.
But this morning, I was struggling to get out of bed, and it wasn’t because of a hangover.
The awkward, bumbling nineteen-year-old me would’ve died at the thought of being here.
Though I’d deny it until the day I died, I was a bit obsessed with Bishop.
I might even still have some of my old diaries that featured full blown fantasies about the hot, older cowboy if I looked hard enough.
If only that version of myself could only see where I was now.
“Morning.”
I jumped, clutching the sheets to my chest as I glanced around his room.
Bishop was sitting in the corner, eyes dark and hair mussed.
It looked like he’d been up all night. He was shirtless, showing off the thick patches of hair along his chest and the small line dipping below his pants.
I could make out the general outline of his tattoo, but it was still too dark to see it clearly.
“Hi,” I said, a little breathlessly. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were here.”
“Where else would I be?” he asked, staring down at his hands. Something felt off. Alarm bells were ringing in my head, telling me to get out while I could, but I didn’t listen.
“I dunno, honestly. Your side of the bed was cold, so I assumed you’d gone up to the barn or something,” I chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.
Only he didn’t join in.
“I didn’t sleep next to you. Didn’t want to give you the wrong idea.”
I straightened my shoulders, sitting up a little taller than normal. “And what idea would that be? That you like to sleep?”
“No, I wanted to make sure you didn’t start throwing up again all over my bed.” I waited for the punchline to a joke that never came. A smile, maybe. Any sign to show he wasn’t dismissing me like I was some casual fuck.
That version of Bishop was one I’d come to know well over the years, but this felt different. He was launching straight into being a dick, which was a bit jarring considering his dick had been in my mouth hours ago.
“Last night shouldn’t have happened.”
“You mean the Taco Bell?” I scrunched my nose. It was going to be so long until I could look at the late-night favorite the same way. “You were right. It was a bad call?—”
“No,” he said, cutting me off. His eyes were trained down. He wouldn’t even look at me.
“Okay… I’m not sure what’s happening here, Bishop. Did I do something wrong? I mean, last night I had your dick down my throat and now you won’t look at me. I didn’t think bodily fluids would fuck you up this much.”
He let out a weary sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Christ, Lennox. No, it wasn’t the throwing up. I don’t give a shit about that. I just mean that whatever was gonna happen last night, it can’t happen again. It was a?—”
“Oh no,” I said, throwing back the covers.
My legs were a little shaky, and my stomach felt like it could betray me at any second, but I pushed through anyway.
“You’re not about to lecture me like I’m a child.
We are two consenting adults and there was nothing wrong with what did or did not happen. ”
Okay, maybe I wasn’t okay. Either the room was spinning, or the food poisoning was coming out in full force now that I was awake.
Where was my stuff? I didn’t remember where I put it.
At this point, was it even worth staying to find it?
I’d rather sit at the DMV for hours to get a new license than listen to him tell me this was all a mistake.
Damn. Let a girl leave with a little bit of pride left intact.
“I’m not lecturing you, but it was still a?—”
“A mistake?” I asked, waiting for him to tell me that wasn’t exactly what he was about to say, but nothing came. He just stared at the wall with a clenched jaw. “Jesus, you can’t even look at me?”
“No.”
The word was like a slap. It rolled off his tongue so easily, unyielding and resolute.
Well, fuck that.
I’d been told a time or two that I had a bad temper, but I always laughed it off.
Sure, I might have gotten into a few fights over the years.
And yes, I did put sugar in my high school exes gas tank because I caught him making out with Sarah Sheffield before school one day.
In my defense, though, he’d just asked me to prom two days before and I could not let the injustice stand.
Somehow, this moment felt ten times worse than any other.
I stormed toward Bishop and gripped his chin. “If you’re going to be a coward, then you’re damn sure going to look at me while doing it.”
His eyes were so dark they seemed almost cruel. The beautiful forest green I loved was gone, replaced instead by a black expanse that sent my fight-or-flight reflexes into overdrive. It was the first time that he’d truly looked at me all morning, and I hated it.
“Is that what you think? That I’m being a coward?
” he asked harshly, gripping my wrist and breaking the hold.
I let him, too stunned to reach into my arsenal of verbal comebacks like I’d been prepared to do seconds ago.
“Listen to me carefully, Lennox, because I don’t want you running to your father and causing trouble.
Anything that happened between us,” he said, motioning over his shoulder toward the living room, “meant nothing. It was a line we shouldn’t have crossed, and I’m thanking whatever higher power is out there this morning that they intervened before things got out of hand. ”
“Oh my God, do you hear yourself?” I shot back. “I don’t know how they did things back in your day, but in mine… two consenting adults can sleep together without acting like it’s the end of the world or needing a wedding proposal. You didn’t ruin my virtue or some shit.”
My pride was taking one hell of a blow this morning. It would’ve been easier to walk out the door like none of this mattered and moved on with my life. Nothing between us needed to change. Bishop and I could, hypothetically, go back to how we were before.
But I’d never done things the easy way, and he had pissed me off. “That wasn’t what I fuckin’ meant,” he scoffed.
“Then what did you mean, Bishop? Did you think I was going to run and tell my dad we’d almost slept together?” When he didn’t answer, I rolled my eyes. “Give me a fucking break,” I muttered.
I looked down, realizing just how much his shirt dwarfed me. It smelled like him. Something that, no matter how much I enjoyed it, was forever tainted. Now, it just reminded me of bad decisions and embarrassment.
I needed out of his clothes, of his space, and his presence right now, or else I just might combust .
“Lennox, stop. Let me get your clothes.” He pushed to his feet, but I’d already ripped the fabric over my head. I balled it in a fist and threw it in his direction.
“Is seeing me naked horrible, too?” I asked over my shoulder, scouring the ground my for my dress. Thankfully, I was still wearing my underwear, so that was one less article of clothing I needed to hunt for.
“I just don’t see why you couldn’t have kept it on before?—”
Aha! There it is .
I reached for the pile of clothes, quickly pulling on my bra. When I grabbed my dress, I was met with the faint stench of day-old vomit.
Fucking fantastic.
It didn’t matter. I’d just have to cowgirl the fuck up and wear it home. There was no way I was going to ask for his shirt back.
As I turned around, I realized I probably looked like a mess. I certainly felt like one. Even if I hadn’t looked in a mirror, I could still feel remnants of last night’s makeup dried to my skin—though I had the briefest memory of him gently trying to get it off before I passed out.
“Where’s my phone and purse?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. His eyes dropped, taking in the swell of my breasts as he sucked in a deep breath.
Bishop hesitated for a moment before motioning toward the living room. “By the door on the hook.”
“Well, you were certainly ready to kick me out, weren’t you?” I asked, storming past him.
“Lennox, goddammit, can you wait for just one second?” I could feel him at my back when I reached for my purse. I did a quick check, just making sure everything was inside. Phone, wallet, keys, taser—the usuals.
Thank God. I’d rather die than come back to this cabin.
“I don’t think there’s much point in that, do you? What’s there to talk about? Do you want to insult me some more?” I spun around, nearly knocked off balance by how close he was.
Bishop ran his hands through his hair, tugging slightly on the ends. I waited for him to say something—to say anything, really—but was met with silence yet again.
I shook my head. “That’s what I thought. Enjoy the solitude, Bishop. Hope it’s worth it.”