Out of Play

I fucking hate Los Angeles.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Pe

I’m glad I decided not to tell Mom I’m home from college early. Halloween weekend and freaking Chomps is getting married. Crazy. It took them more than the two months I predicted, but it’s still weird. Becca gives me one last wave as I step out of her car, then peels out. Mitch just got home, and I know that’s her next stop.

A pang hits my chest when I step in as I see Gramps’s trailer in the corner, and some random old rock music is playing instead of his country, but it’s better than it was. I’m okay. Or will be.

I hit the top of the stairs, and Ben freezes over the stove. “Pe

“Hey.” I glance around. No Mom. Weird. Oh, wait. She said he moved in. Still weird, just not bad weird. “Where’s Mom?”

“You’re a day early.” He keeps smiling. I don’t think he’s faking.

“Yeah.” I shrug. “I wanted home.”

“Your mom went to get something from one of the cabins. Should be back any minute. I was just finishing di

I glance down at my skirt, boots, and tight sweater. “Becca.” I shrug.

He chuckles. “Well. I was going to set up a good time, but it looks like it’s just been given to me.” He leans back and glances out the window.

“Good time for what?” I’m a little on edge, because he’s rubbing his palms on his legs. Definitely suddenly nervous.

“I know you weren’t thrilled about your mom and I…” His smile is gone, and some bizarre expression has taken over. He’s totally freaked out.

I laugh at how nervous he seems to be. “I was pissed that she didn’t tell me what was going on. I didn’t object to you.”

He pulls in a big breath. “Okay. I’m just going to ask.” But the pause is long enough for me wonder if he ever will ask. “I want to marry your mom.”

A bubble of happiness for them swells in my chest, but I try not to show it. He should sweat at least a little. “How does this involve me?”

“You’re her family. I thought you were the one I should ask.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know if she’ll say yes—”

I can’t hold in my smile any more. “She’ll say yes.”

“And you?”

“Scared?” I smirk and narrow my eyes.

His shoulders relax a little as something like a smile starts to play on the edges of his mouth. “You’re a force, Pe

“I learned from the best—you sure you want to tangle yourself with her?”

“Very sure.” There’s nothing but sincerity in his voice. It’ll take me a while to get used to the idea, but it’s okay.

“Well, I’m going to go check on my ‘Vette and maybe take Bitty into town to catch up with friends. Tell Mom I’ll be back later, and good luck.” I wink.

As I jog down the stairs, an engine in the garage roars to life, and my heart leaps into my throat.

Who has their hands on my car?

I sprint down the stairs and throw open the door.

Bishop.

Riley.

With his hands on my car. Well, not on her now because he’s gri

I’m so stu

Bishop smiles even wider as his hands run over the steering wheel.

I’m choking on words, and my heart’s hammering because he’s here. And Mom hasn’t killed him.

I have no idea where we stand after three months of giving each other crap through email, and now…

He glances to the side and our eyes catch. Mom gives me a quick half squeeze before stepping around me and into the house. I can’t register any of it. Just Bishop.

God, he’s the same. But…better. There’s shock on his features that is also probably on mine. And then it’s like he finally snaps into the present. He reaches over slowly and turns the key, letting my Corvette shudder ‘til she stops.

I’ve forgotten how to move or breathe or…

“What are you—”

“I can explain—” We say at the same time as he steps out of the car with his hands up in surrender.

I want to throw my arms around him and bury my face in his smell. Feel his hands holding me. Glancing away, I see a box of pizza on the counter. It’s easier to look there than at him right now. “So…you got Ditch to deliver and Mom not to kill you?” It’s a stupid distraction.

“What can I say? I’m good.”

At that, I turn to him and shake my head.

“I wanted to surprise you…” He looks back at the Corvette and then toward me. “Surprise.” He gives me his cocky half-smile that makes my insides melt. And he looks good. Healthy in a way he didn’t look before, only I hadn’t noticed then.

“I’m just…” And after only talking through email, I want to feel him again. I can’t handle weird or awkward with him. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“You have no idea.” He gives me a real smile, and it’s like I’m seeing all the best parts of him at once. His eyes. The way he really takes me in when he looks at me…

He glances lower and tenses up a little. He gets this sort of faraway look.

I snap my fingers a few times as I let out a nervous little laugh. “Are you seriously checking me out?”

“You look… There is no way you wore that thinking no one was going to check you out.”

We take a few steps closer, and I really look at him again. His hair is back to rocker band blond, and he’s in a snug grease-stained T-shirt with even a little more muscle under it than before. And he still has his lip ring. I love that lip ring. He looks every inch of the rock star he is. Or was. Or…

“What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to show Mom Alaska. Wanted to see you. I’ve been working on your car and helping Pat at the music store. I had to figure out who I am when I’m not trying to be someone else. Just taking it a day at a time. I have the time and money, you know, so…”

Uncertainty creeps in as him being here feels more real. “Why didn’t you come see me? Tell me you were here? I’m, like, four hours up the highway.”

He fingers his lip ring and blinks a few times. “I didn’t want to come too early. Didn’t want you to turn me away. The second I got your first email, I was itching to throw my arms around you, but I felt like… I felt like I wanted to earn you—to make sure I was okay. Like I told you in the emails, I’m doing my meetings, working on cars, working out, and it’s great, but I wanted to fix her for you, too.” He nods at the car. Then he smirks. “Plus, if I waited long enough, I thought you might miss me enough to forgive me.”

Warmth spreads through my chest because he’s completely right. He knows me well. “You look happy,” I say as he reaches forward to slide his fingers through mine. I stare at where they come together for a moment before daring to see what’s in his eyes.

“I am happy.” His lips press together. “So…it’s okay that I’m here?”

I swallow hard as nerves settle in again. “Yes.”

“And that I’ve had my hands on your car?” His voice is quiet. More quiet than I’ve ever heard him. Every breath from him, every word, every movement is something that I feel, something I want to be a part of. How did I stay away from him for so long?

“Yes. All okay.” And feeling so much I step closer, like all this newness is something we can share. He’s holding both my hands in his two, and I realize I might actually get him. Emotion pours through me as I stare at his rough hands holding mine.

This moment is more intense than anything we’ve shared so far. Like everything we’ve gone through together and apart is starting to lead to something really amazing. Something I’m finally ready for. Maybe it’s good that we had so much time apart. Maybe I’m ready to appreciate all the good things that come from his experiences. Gramps was right. People who have been a lot of places make decisions about what they want, and those decisions really mean something. Bishop choosing to be here with me means something.