Page 79 of Bishop's Queen

CHAPTER TWENTY

Bishop woke with one arm numb and a face full of Ella’s hair. Despite what had to be mid-morning light shining into the hotel room, he could have easily fallen back asleep, breathing her in after gathering her closer.

But instead, he remained still. When had he slept past the break of dawn? He couldn’t remember. Running his tongue along his raw lips, he replayed the night before—all the way to when they had said good night and he’d kissed the top of her head—he wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Ella, though? No telling how she would wake, and he would brace for that storm. They’d needed last night. For stress relief. Maybe he would get a reprieve from the ultimate dick move he’d pulled fifteen years ago.Hell.Who was he kidding? If they ever came to that bridge, he would have to figure out what was involved in a fucking grovel.

There was likely an email on his phone with an update from Titan. Whoever was messing with Ella had better hope that the FBI found him first. With each passing day, Bishop wanted to play bodyguard less and hunter more. That was in his blood, not this wait-and-react bullshit.

Anxious to see what Titan had learned, he shifted to reach the nightstand. Ella snored quietly and went back to her peaceful sleep as he failed to dislodge himself. Nowthatwas funny, and he stifled a laugh. If someone would make that a video, her little snore would get mega hits, though who knew if Tara-publicist-from-hell would shit for a lack of flawless makeup and perfect talking points.

On second thought, it would go viral, and her publicist would finally be on Team Bishop. But then the entire world would have access to the sleeping beauty in his arms, and territorial pride wanted this view for his own. So that would be a no-go.

She stirred again and nuzzled against him. She’d always had a crazy streak, had always been passionate. How had he not seen the woman she would become? Did he know the last time they were in bed that it would be the last time?

No.Maybe…

He’d lied. He should’ve called her or done something to show he wasn’t an unfeeling asshole, running off like he had. Little did she know it was to fucking hide. However, if someone was going to be a bitch and hide, the army was a good place to do it—though the Rangers would’ve kicked his ass for ever thinking about the word “hide.” Bishop closed his eyes and thought about the last day he saw her.

“What are you doing here?” Eloise stared with dark circles under her eyes from across the bursar’s office.

“Paperwork.” Of all the people and all the places, Bishop couldn’t handle her there. He’d signed his life away to the army and needed to pull out of school. But he couldn’t look at her, couldn’t tell her that or explain how angry he was at the world. He wouldn’t tell her he was leaving—not now.

“Sorry I haven’t called,” she said, biting her lip. “I’ll make it up to you.”

They were the worst couple on the planet. “Sure.”

Eloise wrapped her arms across her chest and didn’t say good-bye as she drifted away in a current of students.

Ella’s eyelashes fluttered, and she snuggled into him again. The girl still woke up slowly, and he still loved the show. That hadn’t changed, reminding him of first kisses that they’d promised would be their last. First nights spent together, first mornings.Damn it.Didn’t matter, though. Could time heal all?

No. Not everything. Some hurts were still as raw as they were fifteen years ago.

“Hi.” Ella repositioned, letting blood flow to his arm, and tugged the sheets higher on her chest. “Should we do awkward morning after or pretend nothing happened and go for brunch?”

He curled his fingers, making a fist, as the fresh blood flowed strong into his arm. “Gee, I was hoping for a vegan brunch.”

Her sleepy smile was pretty fucking cute. “I’ve broken you of your jerky ways.”

“Don’t make me call you Crazy again.” He stretched, now that all the feeling was back in his arm, then reached for his phone. It was after ten. Wow, that was something. Thumbing his email open, he saw that there was additional intel from HQ about what had happened last night. But he wasn’t ready to get out of bed and didn’t want to talk business now that Ella was awake.

“You were staring at me.”

He tossed the phone down and went with a bald-faced lie. “Nope, I was checking emails.”

“When I woke up.”

“I had lost all feeling in my extremity and was contemplating moving your head and shoulders.”

They were both buck-ass naked, raw as hell from mind-blowing sex, and neither was acknowledging that anything had shifted. Or had it?

“I need some coffee.” She rolled away from him and sat up. “And more clothes.”

It had not, according to her mannerisms and tone. Straight-laced and serious. Her hair was a testament to their night in bed even though she’d finger-combed it for the thirty seconds it had taken him to get up and throw the condom away. Last night ended on an easy note.

This… this would be work.But hell.Bishop killed every job he ever had. Eco-Ella was work to begin with, and Awkward-Ella was no different than Crazy-Ella. All were the same girl he was once in love with long ago… His-Ella.

Problem was, was that what he wanted?

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