Out of Play

“Pe

I can’t breathe right, and I’m gripping the steering wheel with everything I have. Blood’s ru

Bishop sits in silence as I fly toward the school. It’s only about ten miles or so, but the road is windy up here. Bitty slides sideways on a steep curve, and Bishop doesn’t even suck in a breath.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” I ask.

“Making sure you don’t break your truck on the way to school.”

I’m sure he wants me to react, but I don’t. My chest feels different, though. Like I might be able to breathe.

“Watch the steering wheel. Your handprints might never come out.” He chuckles, but his eyes are wide enough that I know he’s also worried about me. Trying to distract me like he did when I got my tattoo yesterday.

My morning crashes in, and my chest feels emptied out. “She didn’t… I mean, she never said anything. Ever. And now I don’t know if I’ve been dealing with all the extra stuff at home because she needs to work or because of Ben. And I wouldn’t have even minded her seeing him if she was fucking telling me the truth.”

Bishop’s silent for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

I suck in a breath, trying to slow down my heart. “Please. You should be telling me that it’s not a big deal. If I don’t care that she’s dating the guy, what does it matter?” Only it does matter because Mom and I used to talk, and I’m not sure what changed.

Bishop rests his hand on my leg. “I don’t need to tell you stuff you already know. She kept something huge from you. That’s not cool.” His face falls for a moment before he recovers.

And hearing him say it that way cuts into me hard. I’ve been left at home alone night after night to deal with Gramps, and did not go out with my friends, because Mom would rather spend time with Ben than me. Now I’m blinking in a bad effort of trying not to cry in front of Bishop.

He gives my thigh a squeeze. “You’re like me. You’re hurt, but it’s easier to be pissed.”

Warmth spreads through me because I know he gets it. Just like he gets my need to stay in Alaska and play with the guys. Like he gets everything about me. “What are you?” I try to wipe my tears without it being obvious, but I’m sure I fail. “A shrink?” I’m still confused and a little angry and a lot hurt, but better.

“Nope. I just want you to know I understand. And that your mom is scary when she yells.” He pauses. “But I want you guys to get along so I can see you and for selfish reasons like she brings me clean towels, and I don’t want one that’s used for a dog or something.”

I love that he’s trying to make me laugh right now.

“I feel like such…just wimpy.” I slide low in my seat. “This isn’t like me.”

“Pe

“Yeah.” I let myself smile a little. “I’m going to be late for school. How did you plan on getting back?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t really think about that, just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ll hitchhike or something.”

He didn’t think about how he’d get back because he was thinking about me.

I pull the keys from the ignition. Am I really going to do this? No one drives Bitty. No one.

“You can drive Bitty home, but if you scratch her, I kick your ass. And it means you’ll have to pick me up from hockey practice at about four-thirty.”

I set the keys in his hand, and his dark brown eyes rest on mine for a moment.

Bishop looks down then and starts tugging at the bundle of stuff in his arms, looking all busy like maybe being close to someone is as different for him as it is for me. “I grabbed a pair of my pants in case you didn’t want to stay in sweats all day.” A pair of jeans falls in my lap. “You’re tall anyway, so I thought they should work. And I brought a hoodie, too.” His black hoodie sits on the seat between us. “You know. Cover up so not every single guy at your school is drooling. And I think we’re supposed to put cream on your tattoo again.”

“Wow, Mom. Thanks.” But I’m smiling wide because he did all this for me. I can’t even remember the last time someone took care of me like this.

“Let’s do the fun part first. Show me your tattoo.” He waggles his brows, and I lift my shirt to scoot over. Well, and to feel his hands on me. And then I have a better idea.

“Let me change into your pants first.” I pull my sweats off, and it was worth it for the look on his face as I sit in my panties to pull on his jeans. Because, to him, I’m a real girl.

His pants are a little big, but I’ll make them work.

When his hands touch my tattoo again, sending a rush of anticipation through me, I’m suddenly not sure if this morning is one of my worst, or one of my best.

When I finally flop into first period, Chomps gives me a raised brow and a smirk. “Whose ass did you kick for those clothes?” .

I flip him off but smile because they smell like Bishop. And then I remember why I’m wearing his clothes, and that I’m still mad, and that he’s home while I’m here, and if I didn’t have to be at stupid school, we could be together, and all the sadness, anger and frustration from my morning starts flooding in.

No one bothers me for the rest of the day. I must look as furious as I feel. How could Mom not say anything about Ben? How many nights could she have been home and wasn’t? And then, the other night when she did come home, she was all in my business, trying to get me to go to bed on time, and suddenly cares what’s going on?

And then she makes it home too late to see if I’m home or not, but not too late to screw the guy she hasn’t told me she’s seeing?

Today is a timed mile for PE. I run four. It’s still not enough to ease the tension.

Chapter Seventeen

Bishop

I slept with Pe

Well, not slept with her, slept with her, but I actually fell asleep without lying around for hours first, and I actually slept through the night. And I’m not talking passed out either because those are entirely different things. All I know is, I was making out with her and it felt good, so good and so different and we were just lying there, and then her a