Out of Play

“I know.” His face is still soft. “But don’t.”

Okay. Trust. Like he said. I can do this. I relax my arms, every nerve in my body aware that Bishop Riley is hovering over my half naked body, and I’ve just given up control.

I let my eyes close as his lips touch my collarbone.

This is a whole lot of firsts for Pe

Chapter Nineteen

Bishop

“This car is going to be the death of me!” Gramps wipes the sweat off his forehead, leaving a big trail of dirt behind. Quickly, I disregard the urge to tell him in case I need a joke later.

I slip my hand in and tighten one of the bolts he just screwed in. “Don’t tell me you’re giving up, old man. You can’t take it? I thought you were better than that.” I cock an eyebrow, waiting for whatever smart-aleck remark he has.

“And I thought you knew better than to try and play me, Rookie. I may be old, but all that means is I’m better. Had a whole hell-of-a lot more time to hone my skills than you. Here, let me get a tissue and wipe your nose for you.”

He moves his hand toward my face, but I playfully push it away. A laugh rumbles from deep in my stomach and spills free. Gramps is so cool. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever known, but there’s no way I’m telling him that. “Maybe you should sit down. I don’t want you to get tired on me. Where’s your walker?”

Gramps grabs for me, and I let him put me in a headlock. “You little punk! I don’t have a walker!”

He’s actually giving me a noogie (who can say they’ve been given a noogie from an old guy?), when a door slams. “Gramps, stop beating up Bishop.” I look up to see Pe

I pull out of Gramps’s grip. “I was letting him win. I thought you might get a little pissed if I injured your grandpa.”

Gramps clears his throat. “No one was letting me do anything. Kids these days. No respect.” He’s trying to hide his smile as he backs up, but then his look gets serious. “Five minutes.” He grumbles before walking inside.

“I thought he’d never leave.” I back Pe

“I don’t have five minutes. I have to go,” she says as my lips trail up her neck. I love the way she tastes. The way she smells. The way she feels. I still can’t believe I’m here with her.

“Four?” I nip her ear.

“Six, but that’s my final offer.”

I laugh against her skin. I’m not sure I’ve laughed this much in my whole life. Actually, that’s a lie. Mom and I had problems, but we were happy when I was growing up. I was happy. Gary asked me once when the last time things were easy for me. It couldn’t have been way back then. I mean, I’ve had hard times off and on like everyone, but I think I’ve been happy. I used to like riding my motorcycle and used to meet with my friend Ryan a lot, but those things are few and far between. When I’m high, I laugh a whole lot, but that’s not the same. Not nearly the same.

Pe

Now totally isn’t the time to think about those things.

My hand slides under her hoodie. Her hands thread through my hair, and I kiss her deeper. Needing more…always more when it comes to her. But I also don’t want to push her too far, too quick.

“I like your hair. I hate that stupid hat you wear.” She whispers the words against my lips.

“Me too.”

“And your lip ring.” She pretends to nip at it. “Totally hot.”

I groan, wishing we had a whole lot more than six minutes. It’s crazy how wild this girl makes me. How much different I feel when I’m with her—not just her, either, but at all lately. Working on the car, snowmachining. All of it.

Guilt tries to push its way back in, but I shove it away.

“You’re really Bishop Riley?” It’s different how she says it. I don’t feel like she’s a fan, trying to get a piece of me. It’s just curiosity, surprise, and it makes that guilt squeeze in again. I give her a nod, and she shakes her head with a smile. “So weird.”

“Not weird.” I kiss her again. And it’s not because when I’m with her I feel like only the good parts of me show.

“What are you doing today?” She squeezes me tighter.

“Your friends are picking me up in a few hours. I think they want to take me to the mountains and hide the body.” Pulling away enough so we can see each other, I wink, my hands still on her waist. “Good thing I can take them.”

“Ugh! Don’t remind me. I’m pissed I can’t go. My mom is seriously making me crazy. So damn hypocritical.”

There’s a way to bring the guilt back. Not only are Pe

Her grip tightens on me, and I can’t help but lean forward and kiss her again.

“I thought you could take them.”

“I can, but then you’d be pissed at me for beating up Lover Boy.”

“Ugh!” She pushes me away. “Stop calling him that.”

Gramps comes back into the garage at the same time. Five minutes are up already?

“Break it up, you two. I’m already public enemy number one with your mom, Pe

I’m still in shock she hasn’t kicked us out. That I’m even here right now.

Pe

Isn’t this awesome? I’m causing all sorts of family drama. I start breathing a little faster. My hands tremble. “Don’t be mad at your mom about me, okay?”

She just rolls her eyes and kisses me quickly. “I gotta go.”

I want to pull her closer. Let her kiss linger and touch her everywhere, but I don’t. “Later,” I tell her and try to walk away, but I feel her lips against my ear.

“I know it might not be huge to you, but the way you just talked about being in the band? Like it was natural and you didn’t mind that I know? It means something to me. Thanks for being honest.”

Sharp, stabbing pain pierces my chest. Not by her, though, because this one? This is all me. My hand holding the knife. Bishop Riley strikes again.

Gramps and I are quiet for the next hour while we keep working on the car. We can’t figure out why she’s giving us so much trouble, and it’s adding to my already shitty mood. If I could just get the Corvette ru

My heart’s been beating way too fast since she left. I definitely could use one of my anxiety meds, but I can’t make myself go to Gary. Not anymore. I’m going to stop all of it. I already feel like a sorry excuse for a man because—well, because I guess I am one, and that just makes it worse.

Without a word, Gramps tosses his tool down and goes to sit in a chair. We’ve been working together enough that he knows my moods. When I don’t feel like talking, Gramps doesn’t talk. When I need to laugh, he gives me shit. And I’m pretty sure he’s the one who talked Pe

“I’m going sledding with Mitch, Matt, and Chomps in a bit. I think they want test me or something.” I shrug. “Make sure I’m good enough for Pe

Gramps chuckles, leaning back in the chair. He crosses his arms. “Eh, they’re pretty good kids. Been around forever. They’re good to Pe