Page 44 of Renegade Ruin

“I need to talk to you.”

Digging my heels in, I double down. “You’ve said that. It can wait until tomorrow at the stadium.”

I grip the door and start to close it when he suddenly stammers, “It’s not a baseball thing.”

That makes me pause, and my heart races in my chest, worry making its way to the forefront. “Is everything okay?”

Bishop sighs and I can see the anxiety etched on his face.“Yes, now cancel the date.”

A piece of me aches to see him distressed, but I can’t play this game with him. “You don’t get to just waltz in here and demand that I cancel a date or listen to what you have to say. Not anymore.”

I try to close the door again, and this time his hand juts out, stopping me. “Just one night,” he mumbles.

Is he seriously throwing those words in my face? What the hell does he hope to accomplish? I huff a sardonic laugh. “Oh no, that ship sailed last week. I told you it was goodbye.”

Bishop dips his head, and I stare up into the disarming eyes I once fell for. He takes another step forward, closing the distance between us.

My breath catches in my lungs when his chest brushes against mine. This close, I can see the stubble he’s let grow to the point it’s borderline beard. The tiny scar at the corner of his eye I’ve never asked about. The perfect curve of his lips I so badly want to taste again. He’s too close for what would be considered appropriate for player and owner. And yet, ever the masochist of my own heart, I can’t will my feet to move.

Say something. Anything that will shut this damn door.

“Bishop, I?—”

“I’m here asking for help.” He breathes like it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. “Please invite me in and hear me out, and for the love of fucking God, cancel your date.”

“You’re an ass,” I mutter, knowing damn well I’m not about to say no to him. “You told me I shouldn’t use our past against you, and here you are doing the same thing.”

“I’m aware,” he replies, “but turnabout’s fair play.”

He’s right. I did the exact same thing when I showed up at his hotel room to extract closure of my own. I hadn’t meant for it to go the way it did, but it doesn’t change the fact we used our history and each other to get what we wanted.

But it was supposed to end there.

Absolutely nothing good can come from this conversation. I’ve spent the last week keeping my distance and allowing him to do the same. I’m navigating the road to healing my heart and trying to move on by focusing on what comes next.

He can’t be a part of that.

But he’s here, doing the work and asking for help. He’s making the first move of what I can only hope is allowing himself to do some healing of his own. Which is why I step back and extend my arm, granting him entrance. “Fine, but if we’re about to talk about this. I need to change into some comfy clothes and make myself a gin and soda.”

Bishop lets out a sigh of relief and gives me a lopsided grin. “Lead the way and don’t lose the dress.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

BISHOP

The house is exactly as I remember it. Pristine. It reeks of money, excellence, and the kind of perfection those with a big bank account love to flaunt. I remember thinking it was completely unlike Willow the first time I visited. Now I’m not so sure.

She’s shown me she’s not everything I feared she’d become, but I’m not entirely ready to let my guard down. Not that it matters. Not for what I need from her.

What I hope she needs from me too.

Willow led me to her father’s office and left me to wait while she changed out of the stunning off the shoulder purple dress and heels she greeted me in. It accentuated every single one of her sinful curves and left my dick twitching in my pants. That is until she told me it was for another man.

It’s not that I’m jealous.

Okay, that’s a lie. I am. But only because if she’s shackled to another man, there’s no way she can do what I’m about to ask her. It’s jealousy by necessity.

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