Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Bailey
F lashback: Twelve Years Ago
The bright lights of the Ferris wheel lit up the night sky, flickering all around us as laughter and country music rang out in the distance. The Colton County fair was in full swing and one of the major events held annually here in Crossroads, one my friends and I waited all year for. The North Carolinian heat was blistering even at night, but the smells of cotton candy, popcorn, and barbeque overwhelmed the senses.
Billie and I were knee deep in funnel cake, topped with ice cream and fresh strawberries, while Brynn devoured a fried pickle the way only she knew how. We’d been at the fair since eleven in the morning, but it was nearly nine in the evening now. Mama had brought us along to help run the bake sale and sweet tea stand, but after hours of riding the Ferris wheel, swings and various other rides, I was exhausted and ready to call it a night.
“One more time on the Ferris wheel, Bailey. Please,” my little sister Brynn begged as she shoved the last bit of pickle into her mouth. Her light brown pigtails bounced as she jumped in excitement. I reached out and wiped the fried crumbs off her chin.
“Brynn, it’s getting late and my feet are killing me. We’ll come back tomorrow again and ride the Ferris wheel however many times you want. Mama’s going to start calling and send the boys out looking for us if we don’t get back soon.”
At only twelve years old, Brynn could stay so long as she remained close to my side. That was the deal. Even at sixteen, I still had a curfew I couldn’t risk breaking.
“Please,” she pleaded, but her sweet puppy eyes would not work on me.
“Brynn, it’s Sunday tomorrow, and mama’s going to want us up bright and early for church.”
Billie jumped in front of us and took Brynn by the hand. “Oh come on Bailey, it’s summer. Live a little. I’ll take you, Brynn, since Bailey here doesn’t understand the meaning of fun.”
The two of them ran off to the front of the line, and with a quick wink from Billie to the attendee, they were quickly let on. I tossed the nearly finished funnel cake in the trash and wiped my hands against my dress, dusting the remaining sugar off my fingers.
“Bailey doesn’t know the meaning of fun,” I huffed under my breath. “Yeah, I’ll show you fun.”
I stomped toward the ride, eager to show them I could break the rules now and then, but crashed into a hard body right before I got to the front of the line. “Woah, there. Where are you off to in such a hurry, Angel?”
My heart was caught in my lungs and I forced myself to breathe as Nash Bishop caught me with a firm hand on my waist before I fell to the dirt. “Nash,” I whimpered, feeling the muscles of his arms flex beneath my fingers as I gripped him tight.
The smile he gave me made me weak in the knees and if he wasn’t already holding me up, I’d be falling at his feet. “Why aren’t you home and all tucked up in your bed like a good little girl?” he asked, wiping away at the whipped cream on the edge of my lips with his thumb.
I was mesmerized as I watched him bring his thumb to his mouth and lick it clean.
“Brynn wanted to ride the Ferris wheel one more time,” I stuttered nervously, not letting go of my hold on him. He hadn’t removed his hand from my waist either, and I felt his fingers dig deeper into me. “Billie and her ran off before I could say no.”
The teasing smile spread wider as he set me back on my feet and took a step back, forcing space between us. “And left you here all alone?”
His question was taunting, like I was some little girl who needed to be watched after. “I was on my way to join them. Billie said I was no fun because I wanted to go home.”
Embarrassment washed over me as I realized how childish I sounded. What the hell was wrong with me, and why did I become a rambling mess anytime Nash was around? My cheeks burned as his gaze stayed on me, never straying despite how eager I was to disappear or run and hide, pretending this conversation never occurred.
“So now you’re off to break the rules, huh, trouble?” Nash reached for my hand and led me to the front of the line. He pulled me toward him, sneaking us into the next cart before the rest of the people who were patiently waiting to board.
I heard a guy groan in frustration, but we quickly were locked up and on our way. “What are you doing?” I asked, mortified.
“Let’s go get in trouble, B.”
I frantically looked around, terrified that someone would see us and word would get back to my brothers, only I didn’t recognize any of the people in front of us. Bailey and Brynn were already in one of the other carts, but could still see us at any moment.
“Nash, we cut in line.”
He ignored me, of course, something he always did when he didn't like what I had to say. “I said we were breaking the rules, Bailey. You wanted to be fun? Fun people don’t wait in lines.”
“And how are you suddenly the expert on fun?” I asked as the ride began turning. I gasped in shock when I nearly fell back into my seat.
Nash leaned over me, his toned, warm body pressing into me as he reached to fasten the safety bar. I inhaled as he leaned so close to me, I could taste him if I tried. Would he be as sweet as the funnel cake I’d indulge in, or better? My tongue wanted so badly to find out, but I didn’t dare.
“Angel,” he whispered into my ear, his hot breath tickling my cheek. “No one can show you fun like me. What do you say, B? Want to get into trouble with me?”
There’s nothing I wanted more than to be all alone with Nash in a Ferris wheel cart suspended eighty feet in the air where no one could see us. My crush on him had become unmanageable, and there was nothing I wouldn’t do to get a moment alone with him where I could. Brynn may have made my night by requesting to spend more time here. If it weren’t for her, I’d be just as Nash said, tucked in bed like a good little girl and not sitting next to the hottest, baddest boy in all of Crossroads. Even if said boy saw me as nothing more than his best friend’s little sister.
I turned my head toward him, my lips lightly brushing against his, and he groaned in response. I wanted to reach for him, to tangle my fingers in his hair, to take his face in my hands and force a kiss on him, but I didn’t dare. I was too afraid of rejection. Goosebumps spread over my skin at the mere thought he might feel the same way I did, but I was only fooling myself.
“Don’t, B. Don’t do something we’ll both regret.”
Embarrassment rushed through me at what I almost allowed myself to do. I felt my cheeks turn bright red as heat crept up my chest and neck. I couldn’t let him think I was about to kiss him. I would never live it down if anyone found out I had and he’d rejected me.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Nash. I was simply turning my head. You’re the one that needs to sit back before people get the wrong idea.”
He laughed, a full belly rumbling laugh that sounded almost angelic, knowing full well he caught me in a lie, but he didn’t push me on it. Instead, he settled back in the seat beside me and threw his arm over my shoulder.
“Sit back, take in the cool summer breeze, and relax. You think too much, do too much. Live a little, B and you’ll realize fun isn’t something you do or something you are. It’s the way you look at life. Carefree and careless.”
“Like you?”
His eyes met might, dark and full of so much sorrow. Full of so many questions, but even worse, full of so many lies. Lies, he continued to tell not only me but himself. That he didn’t want me. That I meant nothing to him. That he was nothing more than my brother’s best friend and I was the little sister he had to avoid.
“Not like me, Bailey. You never want to be like me.”
P resent
I wake up to the sound of the running water coming from the bathroom inside my bedroom. Cursing at myself for waking up from my dream, a dream I had of Nash from back when we were younger at the county fair, I shake off the lust creeping up my spine. It was from the night I nearly kissed him, only he stopped me before I could make a fool of myself.
I didn’t fully understand what he’d meant. Not to be like him. It was just as cryptic then as it was now. I knew things with his family, his upbringing and childhood weren’t perfect, but I never understood the extent of how much he suffered living with his mother and father. Not when my family was the complete opposite.
We were told to stay away from the Bishops, raised to fear and their unruly ways, but there was nothing about Nash or his brothers and sister that scared me. It wasn’t until the day he broke my heart that I understood the warnings my father had given me all my life were meant to be heeded. But by then it was too late. I can’t let myself forget that now.
Swiping a hand over my forehead, wiping away the beads of sweat forming, I sit up in bed when I realize the sound of the shower is coming from my bathroom and not the guest bathroom down the hall. Shit. I didn’t realize when I let him stay that we would have to share a shower because the one down the hall was only a half bath with a small tub. That was also something I needed to have remodeled. I didn’t think it through, but realized maybe he would shower elsewhere. Not sneak into my bedroom while I was asleep and dreaming of him, to make matters worse.
I rush out of bed and bang on the bathroom door. “Get out of my shower, Nash!”
He doesn’t answer, but the water shuts off, telling me he’s heard me. I can hear the creak of the pipes as the water stops its flow through them. He better not have finished up all the hot water.
“Nash,” I shout yet again, but before I can bang my fist, the door opens, a bare chested Nash in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, standing under the doorway.
“Morning, Angel,” he says, his morning voice something they ought to research for its effects on a female libido. Water droplets fall from his dark wet hair and trickle down his glistening tan skin and the ridges of his impeccably sculpted muscles, making my mouth go incredibly dry.
Black ink beautifully decorates his skin with various drawings, symbols, and script. The sleeves of his arms are nearly fully covered in the bold black markings. I want to take my time, trace every single one, and listen to each story they tell about the places he’s been.
Nash clears his throat and my eyes flick back up to his, remembering he’s standing half naked in my bedroom. The teasing smirk he wears when he notices how entranced I was by his naked torso makes my knees weak and my thighs squeeze to suppress the need building at my center. Not to mention the way his gaze drops to my chest, and my pebbled nipples poking through my thin silk cami, makes me acutely aware I’m nearly naked in front of him.
Not that I’m at all uncomfortable with my body or showing it off, but this early in the morning, when I don’t have my mask or the rest of my disguise in place, I’m incredibly self-conscious.
Unsure of what to do, I punch him, nearly breaking my fist as it slams against his pecs. “Ouch, what the hell, Nash? Are you made of fucking steel?”
“Just a hell of a lot of iron, B,” he mocks, but I don’t laugh.
My face wrinkles in annoyance. “Why the hell are you standing half naked in my bedroom after using my shower?”
“I needed a shower. You only have one. There’s no way I fit in that tub, and I couldn’t exactly risk my head being cut off if I’d woken you up to ask. I know how much you love your beauty sleep, though since you say you work so early, I’m not sure you even get any.” He reaches for me and gently tugs on the hem of my camisole. “This is fucking adorable.”
Realizing I’ve woken up to the sound of the shower running and not my alarm, I turn back toward my nightstand in panic and grab my phone from the charging port, shrieking when I see the time. “It’s fucking nine am, Nash. Why the hell did you let me sleep in?”
“Hey, don't get mad at me. I just woke up too. I figured since I didn’t hear an alarm go off that maybe you weren’t going in after all.”
I curse when I realize I didn’t set my alarm last night before getting into bed. I was so tired and mentally drained from ever that had occurred, not even thoughts of Nash kept me up for more than a minute before I succumbed to a dead sleep.
“You don’t understand, Bishop. I was supposed to open the cafe and…” Looking down at my phone, I notice the five missed calls and eight unread text messages from Billie.
Billie: Charlie called. Said he walked by HoneyBees on his way to the mill and didn’t see anyone inside.
Billie: He asked if we were suddenly closed on Saturdays. Wanted to know if he had to make his own coffee at home from now on.
Billie: Tried calling you but you’re not answering.
Billie: Is everything okay?
Billie: B? Is it Nashiel? Has he done something to you?
Billie: OMG! Did you sleep with him and have fallen into a coma from the amount of mind-blowing orgasms he gave you?
Billie: Cause fuck me, Nash Bishop looks like he knows his way around a clit.
Billie: BTW, HoneyBees is fine. Opened an hour late, but we’re up and running.
I feel Nash hovering over me before he speaks. “You can tell her it’s true. I definitely know my way around a clit. I can find…”
Spinning around, I slap a palm over his mouth to shut him up before he says something I wouldn’t mind testing for myself. “Privacy, Nash. These are my texts. Don’t fucking read them.”
Nipping my finger, he backs away, hands up in the air in surrender, and his towel nearly falls to the floor.
My hands fly to cover my eyes. “Goddammit, Bishop. Go put some fucking clothes on and stay the hell out of my shower!”
He chuckles darkly on his way out of my room and I slam the door shut behind him. No, this will not work. I’m going to call Jase up right now and tell him to come get his friend the hell out of my apartment. If he wants his ass off the streets, then he can do it himself.
Dropping back down on the bed, I text Billie back, letting her know I’m fine and assuring her I’m orgasm free.
Me: Sorry Bills, I overslept. What I’m not sorry for is what I’m going to do to you when I see you. Thanks to you, I now know Nash does in fact know his way around a clit.
Me: Don't worry, I don’t know because he found mine, but because he read your messages!
Billie: You’re welcome. Bet he’s now riding his sexy little ass around town with those dirty thoughts in his mind about finding yours.
The thought of him doing exactly what Billie says excites me way more than it should.
Thirty minutes later I’m showered, dressed and quietly heading into my living room in case Nash is still up and moving around undressed. To my surprise, I find the apartment empty, the smell of coffee lingering around the room as I head into the kitchen. There I find a note posted on the whiteboard calendar I have hung up on the side of the refrigerator, right under today's date and to-do list. Saturday’s I open the HoneyBees in order to leave early and run errands before closing up at the bar.
To-Do:
Try out the new lemon blueberry scone recipe with the freeze-dried blueberry compote filling instead of fresh fruit.
Drop off the dress I’m supposed to wear for my parents' anniversary dinner next week at the dry cleaners. (Tell mama it was “accidentally” ruined and buy myself another I’d actually wear again.)
Buy groceries
Unpack two boxes from the living room
Get Nash a copy of my key
Wear the lime green lace bra Nash found on my floor along with the matching bottoms I know you have.
The last two are written in red and not in my handwriting, along with a post it note stuck right under.
Headed out to the ranch. I’ll be out until late tonight. Don't wait up, Angel. XO Nash.
My heart flutters when I see his name and the continued use of the term angel but I quickly recover. Nash Bishop is going to drive one of us to an early grave, and my bets are on him. The only problem is, I don’t look good in orange.