Chapter 13
13
Bishop
I slow my bike as we enter the parking lot, and turn it off when we reach the curb, engaging the kickstand. My helmet is yanked from my head and I turn to help Anais out of hers.
“Wha…I thought we were going back to your house.” She looks around and notices we are at her dorms, not my house.
“I said we were leaving. I never said we were going to my house. Go to bed, Anais.” I grip her small waist and lift her up and off my bike much like I did when I sat her on it back at the club.
“But my friends are at the bar,” she continues to pout.
“You’re right. They are. So lock your door and just go to sleep.” I look down into her eyes and they’re glazed and glossy from alcohol.
She presses her hands flat against my chest and pushes me with all her might. “You know, I was having a wonderful time until you came and ruined my night. That guy was going to take me to his place, and you just stomped in like a cranky bear and ruined it.”
Her feet stumble and she quickly recovers before her butt plants to the ground.
“Oh yeah? You were having fun? Is that why you texted me? ”
Her jaw clenches and her eyes burn with fire. It’s that type of animosity I want to see living in her. I need it to remind me that she is a forbidden fruit. One that I ate from tonight, and it was better than I imagined it to be.
“Goodnight, Anais. Sleep off the alcohol and I’ll check on you tomorrow,” I tell her and stow away the helmet she was wearing.
“Fuck you, Bishop. I don’t need you to check up on me like I’m a child.”
“You are a fucking child! How did you get into that bar tonight, huh? Was it with your legal, over twenty-one ID?”
She throws me the bird then searches through her purse for her keycard. “A fucking child you kissed. What does that make you?”
“A goddamn idiot. And it will never happen again. Get inside.” I pull up the kickstand and pop the clutch on my bike to start it up, silencing any other argument she has.
We stare at one another in a standoff before she spins on her heels and stomps her way to her building and through the doors. I wait to see that the door closes and locks behind her, then I tear through the streets to my house where I spend the rest of my sleepless night reliving that kiss and reminding myself of what a fool I have been.
The sound of my doorbell wakes me from the hazy sleep I was finally able to fall into after many hours of staring at the ceiling fan as it whirled around and around. I turn my head and squint my eyes to make out the time on the clock that sits on my nightstand. The bright white numbers read ten fifty-two, and I groan. I missed church and no doubt it’s mama coming to yell at me for skipping out .
I push up on my elbows and rub the sleep from my eyes, then reach over for my glasses. They’re just reading glasses, but my head is already pounding and straining my eyes in any way will only make it worse.
The bell rings again and I throw the sheets off of myself and slam my feet down on the hardwood. I grab a t-shirt off the edge of the bed as I make my way out and trudge down the two sets of stairs to the front door.
I swing it open, already apologizing for missing this morning's service.
“I’m sorry, mama. I didn’t slee–” my words die when I realize it is not my mom at the door, but rather Anais.
She stands there looking timid and almost embarrassed, her eyes cast downward. She has her hair in two braids like she did at Dagen’s pool party, and she wears a slouchy sweatshirt and a very small pair of athletic shorts. You know, the kind that costs a hundred dollars and barely has enough material to qualify as an article of clothing.
“Anais?”
She lifts her eyes to meet mine and bites down on her lip. “Hey. Um…can I come in? I brought coffee.” She holds up two cups, one in each hand, and looks shyly at me.
“How’d you get here?” I stick my head out of the door and take a quick look up and down my street.
Only a few people mill about, walking their dogs or taking a morning stroll.
“An Uber. Well, I walked to get the coffees, then took an Uber from the cafe here,” she explains.
I realize I’m still standing here with my front door wide open in only my boxers and a white t-shirt.
“Come in,” I tell her, taking the coffees from her hands and standing aside so she can enter.
I follow her up the stairs with my eyes focused on the stairs as my feet hit them, instead of staring at her ass like the last time. She reaches the landing on the second floor and looks back at me.
“Why don’t you have a seat on the couch. I’m going to run up to my room for just a moment.” I point towards the brown leather sofa where she walks over and plops down on.
I set the cups down on the coffee table, then grab two coasters and reposition them back down. “Be right back.”
I quickly jog upstairs and grab a pair of athletic shorts and rush to the bathroom to relieve myself, wash the lack of sleep from my face, and brush my teeth. I make it back down in five minutes and see Anais staring at her twined fingers.
I clear my throat and she sits up tall, lifting her head to meet me. I sit down, leaving a few cushions between us because after last night, I need the space from her. I reach over and pick up the cup with my name on it and take a sip, thankful for the caffeine that begins to hit my bloodstream.
“So,” she starts. “I first want to apologize for my behavior. Yes, I was drinking, but I wasn’t drunk. I was just inebriated enough to lose the filter on my mouth.”
I watch as the expression on her face changes from embarrassed to ashamed. This morning she is fresh faced with only gloss on her lips. Compared to last night when she was fully done up, she looks every bit the nineteen year old she is.
The coffee instantly grows sour in my stomach and I set it down.
“But despite losing the filter, everything I said to you last night is true.” My eyes fling up to hers.
“Anais. Please stop. You don’t mean that,” I tell her.
“Yes I do. I meant every word of it.”
I sigh. “It’s a silly crush. Once you find someone your age, it’ll quickly fade away.”
“I don’t want a boy my age. I want a man. One man.” She slides over the cushion that separates us and places her hand on my knee. “You. I want you.”
I jump up from the sofa, pushing her hand away like it’s fire. “No you don’t. Stop saying that. You’re nineteen. You don’t know what you want.”
Anais jumps up from the couch much like me, and advances on me. My feet shuffle backwards as quickly as she moves.
“Quit bringing up my age like it’s a barbed wire fence you can’t climb. Look me in the eyes and tell me that if I wasn’t nineteen you wouldn’t want me the way I want you.”
I open my mouth to give her just that, but I can’t. I want her, plain and simple. I want her despite who her uncle is. I want her without bounds.
“You can’t say it, can you? What’s stopping you? And if you say my age, I swear to God I will kick a hole in your wall.”
“Your uncle,” I say. “He’s my best friend and I could never betray him. He would never forgive me. His friendship means more to me than a young woman that will probably be on her way the moment she realizes she doesn’t want an old man who’d rather spend his evenings watching movies cuddled in bed than out partying and getting drunk.”
“I love cuddling in bed,” she purrs and walks closer.
“Who have you been cuddling with? Your teddy bear?” I sneer, trying to get her to back off. And if I can’t do it with reasoning, then I’ll just have to be a condescending asshole.
“No. Only one boy cuddled with me, but he was nothing like the bear I’d like to be wrapped up in.”
My jaw clicks and the irrational part of my brain says to track this fucker down and wrap my hands around his puny neck until the life drains out of him.
While I’m plotting the death of the boy who dared to touch Anais, she stepped toe to toe with me and pressed her hand to my chest over my thundering heart.
“Bishop,” she whispers, her eyes looking up at me and fuck, I want her. “Why don’t you want me like the other boys do?”
I swallow and reach for the wall behind me, trying to grip it and not Anais. “I never said I don’t want you. I said I can’t want you. I can’t have you. I think you should go now.”
“Of course you can have me. I want you to have all of me. Please, Bishop. I need your hands on me.” She drops her hand and reaches for the hem of her sweatshirt, gripping the edge and slowly pulling over her head .
I close my eyes, begging God to pull me from the dream. This can’t happen. I need to be strong and resist this girl who is rushing to be a woman.
I feel her soft skin as she takes my hand in hers and my eyes fly open, watching in horror as she guides my fingers to grip her pert breast. I’m frozen in shock and can’t pull away. Not even when she does the same with my other hand. When she drops her arms to her sides, I’m left there, my back against the wall and her firm tits in my palms.
“Have me, Bishop.”
Keeping my eyes locked to hers, I rub my thumbs over the hard points of her nipples. She drops her head back, a sensual moan falling from her mouth. I massage her breasts and my dick grows impossibly hard. The slender column of her neck is itching to have my mouth on it, and her tan skin is perfection.
A devil and an angel are warring on my shoulders, one urging me to dive in and the other pleading with me to walk away. My brain steps into the argument and studies the situation then says, “ I’ll see you in hell” .
I slide my hands around her and drop my head, taking her neck with my mouth. I kiss and lick her tender flesh, while her hands hold my head to her. She gets so close that she’s practically climbing me.
I pepper open mouth kisses down her neck, across her collarbone until my lips are clamped tightly on her nipple. I roll the hard nub between my teeth and she purrs. My hands circle around her small waist and I lift her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around me.
I spin us and press her up against the wall, just as she takes my face in her hands and locks her lips to mine.
She tastes so good, yet so forbidden, but it doesn’t stop me from indulging. I kiss her slowly and not like the animal that lives inside me that’s dying to ravage her.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she murmurs against my lips. “I dream about you, Bishop. About us and the moment I finally get to call you mine.”
My eyes fly open and my mouth freezes. Those words have me hitting a brick wall, not just stopping me but shattering the serenity I was lost in.
I gently place her back on her feet and take a step back. She watches me as I reach down and pick up her sweatshirt.
“What are you doing?”
“You need to leave, Anais. This is wrong. Please just…get dressed and leave,” I beg her.
I toss her the sweatshirt, afraid to get too close to the fire, and retreat to the kitchen.
“Bishop,” she calls out. “Bishop. Stop!”
My fists pound on the counter and I look up at her. “What? This can’t happen. Here,” I reach into a drawer and dig out the spare keyfob to my truck. “Take my truck back to campus. The tag will let you park anywhere. Just take it and go.”
I lob it over and she barely catches it, her breasts still hanging out.
“Are you serious right now?” she asks, completely flabbergasted.
“As a fucking bullet to the head. Put your shirt on and go back to school. I’ll get my truck tomorrow.”
I speed past her and jog up the stairs to my room where I close the door, pressing my ear against it to hear her leaving. The door to the garage slams and I hear the roar of the engine. I step to the balcony where I watch her squeal out of my driveway and down the street, until she disappears around the corner.
I breathe a sigh of relief that she’s gone, then scrub my teeth again, trying to wash her taste from my mouth. But nothing will ever take away the deliciousness of her body.
It’s a curse I will have to live with, but at least I will live, which is better than the alternative. That being Nix finding out and putting the aforementioned bullet between my eyes.
She’s not worth it, Bish, I tell myself. It’s laughable because I really don’t know if that’s the truth. If anyone is worth losing it all for, it may be her.