Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 86158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86158 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Three weeks in, there was only one topic that we hadn’t broached, and I flew right past that invisible barrier after a long ass day of working and a couple drinks.
“What were you in prison for?” I asked, lying sideways in my bed with my head propped up on my hands.
Bishop had been lounging on my couch, his feet crossed at the ankles and his arms folded behind his head—and he stayed that way—but I still could’ve sworn I saw his entire body freeze in place.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out, instantly remorseful. I’d overstepped big time and I knew it. I’d grown up with men who’d been in and out of prison for a variety of reasons and I knew how shitty it was to ask them why they’d been there. If they wanted to offer up the information, it was their place to do it. If they didn’t, you kept your curiosity to yourself because frankly it was none of your goddamn business.
“Weed,” he answered quietly, his chest rising and falling on a big breath. “Anything else you wanna know?”
“It’s none of my goddamn business,” I said, covering my face while I shook my head.
“I’m sittin’ in your room,” he said easily. “Been in your room almost every night since I moved in. I’d say that makes it your business.”
“No it doesn’t,” I argued sitting up. I felt weird having the conversation while laying down. “I knew you’d been in prison. If I had reservations about that, I could’ve said something before you moved in. Asking now is just—it’s shitty. It doesn’t matter.”
“Charlie,” he said chidingly. “I meant it—anythin’ you wanna know, I’ll tell ya.”
“Full out of questions,” I said quickly, shaking my head.
“Honey, if I thought you were bein’ an asshole or would be an asshole about it, this would be an entirely different conversation.”
“How did you go to prison for weed?” I blurted. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Between my record and the amount of green I had on me, they pretty much bent me over and fucked me,” he said quietly.
“But it’s legal now,” I replied, still confused.
“Only legal up to a certain amount,” he said.
“Was it worth it?”
“Fuck no,” he said, giving me lopsided smile. “See if I ever buy in bulk again.”
I let out a startled laugh.
“Don’t ask me to go to Costco,” he continued. “I’d have nightmares for weeks.”
“You’re a shit,” I replied, throwing my pillow at him.
“Oh, now I’m a shit,” he said insinuatingly as he stood up, my pillow in his hands. “I see how you turned the tables.”
“That’s not fair,” I replied, scooting backward on the bed. “I apologized.”
“I know. And you can’t help it,” he said, lurching toward me. I scrambled even further back. “You’re naturally nosy.”
“I’m not nosy!”
He put a knee to the bed and a very undignified squeak burst out of my mouth as I tried to escape. Unfortunately, I’d underestimated the size of my bed and I fell backward ass over elbows onto the floor beside it.
“Holy fuck,” Bishop yelped, hurrying around the bed. He was struggling not to laugh. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I wheezed, lying flat on my back with one foot still awkwardly clinging to hope on the bed.
He crouched down next to me and reached out.
“Don’t move me,” I said urgently. “I may have broken something.”
The smile lingering on his lips instantly vanished as his eyes widened with worry.
“Fuck,” he breathed, his gaze running over me. “What hurts?”
“Nothing,” I replied easily, reaching out to jab him in the side with my thumb. “But that’s what you get for laughing.”
I rolled over and got to my knees in one smooth movement while he stared at me.
“I thought you were actually hurt,” he said accusingly.
“Good,” I replied, pointing at him. That was as far as I got before he lifted me from the floor and slung me over his shoulder.
“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled, kicking my legs and twisting to try and get away.
“You know,” he said conversationally as we left my room. “You really should be more careful about who you pull shit with.”
“It was just a joke,” I choked out as his hand connected firmly with my ass. It wasn’t a smack, but Jesus, it was a clear sign of something.
“Jokes are funnier when they’re shared,” he said, jogging down the stairs.
“It was shared,” I argued, pinching his ass. “We shared it.”
“But I didn’t think it was funny.”
“I never said I was a comedian,” I spat, pinching him again. “You win some, you lose some.”
“That is true,” he said as he strode through the entryway and into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” I asked, starting to get nervous as he just kept walking.
“What’s happening out here?” Draco asked, coming out of his bedroom. Kara stood behind him in one of his t-shirts.