Page 41 of Bishop

Bright and early, Stank. There’s a storm coming in off the coast but I think we’ll be fine.

I rolled my eyes again.You and that name! See you in the morning.

After making sure every door and window in the little luxury cottage was secure, I climbed into bed. The sheets felt cool against my body and smelled like lavender. Doom scrolling on Facebook, the very next thing that came up on my news feed was a post from Diamond:I hate when bitch’s refuse to grow up. So childish.

The status had been posted an hour ago and I was absolutely sure that it was about us. Reading the comments I saw that Summer had chimed in telling her to take the post down.

Taking a deep breath, I wrote on the post.Sorry about tonight, Di. I love you.

Of course it was easy to be spiteful, but Diamond was the type to be confused as hell by an apology even though she didn’t deserve one.

Yawning, I finally tucked my phone under my pillow as my eyelids grew heavy.

My dreams turned weary as I slipped further into my deep slumber.

Flashes of high school appeared and I walked down the former hallway. Distant familiar scents played with my senses as I nearly stumbled before landing in Zane’s arms.

“Stanky Emerald?” He asked, his voice full of timber and a frown on his gorgeous face.

This wasn’t my Bishop. No, this was the asshole I’d known years ago, the one that smelled of Axe body spray, and wore charisma and a Letterman jacket like a second skin.

“I…I’m so sorry…”

Before I could get a firm grasp on everything happening, the dream slipped away as my phone’s alarm started beeping loudly.

Morning light had spilled into the room but it seemed to be gray and dreary outside. An advisory for a storm was on my phone's lock screen.

Pushing away the dream and any remnants of high school, I showered and styled my hair while also making sure I had my yellow raincoat by the door waiting.

I made myself a cup of coffee and read over a few emails from Pearl.

Will was going to a conference in New Mexico and he had everyone working around the clock concerning the Murphy-Maddox murder trial that had just been dropped in our laps.

I replied to the email just as Zane knocked at the door.

“Ready?” He asked.

“I am,” I eased up on my tip toes and kissed him lightly.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he licked at his lips greedily.

Rolling my eyes, I handed him my duffel bag. “You are ridiculous. Let’s go!”

We got into his brand-new Shelby Mustang and sped away from my house and through the foggy streets of New Orleans. It seemed as if nothing was stirring within the Quarter.

I fiddled with the radio until I found some early 2000's pop and jammed along to Pink’sMy Own Worst Enemy.

The two of us talked quietly for the entire hour and a half drive to the bed and breakfast that Zane had picked out.

By the time we finally parked, the rain had slowed down to a slight trickle.

“Welcome to The Tempete Inn,” the host smiled at us as we walked through the front doors of the main lodge. He was a heavy-set man who had a wandering blue eye. The uniform he wore seemed to be hugging the life out of him.

While Zane got us checked in, I looked around finding cute little items and saw they were fully stocked on snacks and feminine items.

My ears perked up when I heard the host tell us we’d mostly have the place to ourselves. “With this storm coming in, most of the reservations were canceled. There’s just one other guest here this weekend. Dinner will be served at six thirty, and here’s your key.”

He directed us to our room, which was overlooking the lake.

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