“Thanks,” I murmur. I hate hospital food, but I can stomach a sandwich. Especially if it gets me out of here.
I take a bite, finishing it in record time before looking back to the nurse. “Thank you.” I nod then gaze to Bishop, who’s staring at me with his jaw clenched. Great. What the hell have I done now?
“Where’d Nate go?” Bishop finally breaks the awkward silence as the nurse starts removing my IV drips.
I wince slightly. “Home to get my room ready or something.”
Bishop smiles and then looks to Tatum. “You didn’t want to go with him?”
Tatum narrows her eyes on him. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because you’re you.”
The drive home was painful. Between Bishop and Tatum both making a fuss over everything, I was almost ready to jump out of a moving vehicle on the freeway and walk home. And if I did, I would have survived, because for the first time ever, Bishop was going 10 mph, not wanting to go over potholes and bumps in the road.
Walking up the stairs, I push open my bedroom door, annoyed at both of them and wanting some space, but when I walk in, I gasp. “What the…?”
Nate sits on a mattress at the foot of my bed and has spread out the entire surface with cheesecakes, gummy bears, and my favorite chocolate, Debauve & Gallais’s Le Livre.
There are sushi rolls lined in a circle platter with soy dipping sauce in the middle. Next to it is a round of tacos, and all the dipping sauces for fries and potato skins.
“Nate!” I smile. If I wasn’t so sore, I’d jump his bones.
“Hey, Kitty.” He grins, and because he’s Nate, he looks all seductive. Or maybe I’m turned on by the food. “You hungry?” He wiggles his eyebrows and flexes his pecs.
I roll my eyes. “Yes, my God.”
“Wow, Riverside, you sure know how to put on a show,” Tatum mutters, walking into the room and grabbing her bag. She looks at me. “I’m going to go home, sleep for a hundred days in my own bed, and not talk to anyone for at least a month. She smiles, walking up to me and pulling me in for a hug. “I’ll text you, okay?”
Nodding, I smile. “You better.” Then she turns and exits, leaving me to deal with both Nate and Bishop.
“Actually,” Nate smiles, getting off the mattress and dusting off his pants, “I didn’t do any of this. Bishop did.” He leans down, stealing a taco and shoving it into his mouth.
“So you just took it? No correcting me or Tatum?” I arch my eyebrow.
He shakes his head, swallowing his food. “She’s fun to play with. That’s all.”
I unzip my hoodie and toss it onto my bed. “Don’t hurt her, Nate.”
“Hey!” He throws his empty hands up. “She knows where I stand. It’s not my fault if she catches feelings. She’s good in bed. That’s all I want.”
“What? And fuck around on her in the meantime?” I ask, reaching up and touching the gauze that’s wrapped around my head.
He watches me and then cusses under his breath. “None of that matters. We aren’t a thing. There’s only one—or maybe two girls who had the power to change that, and one of them was you. Anyway, you feeling okay? You need anything?” He looks to Bishop, who is sprawled out on my bed, shirtless with gray sweatpants on and the rim of his Calvin Klein briefs poking out the top.
I’m screwed.
“I’m sure B will take care of you, right?”
Bishop reaches forward on my bed and grabs the remote, flicking the TV on. “Go to bed, Nate.”
Nate winks at both of us before walking back through to his room. Bishop must push Play on a movie because it cuts through our silence. But it’s not an awkward silence or the kind of silence you feel when you’re in a room with someone you’re uncomfortable with.
“I’m just going to take a shower,” I say to him, walking to my closet to get a pair of sweatpants and a tank top.
He nods, watching as I pass him. Once I’ve gathered everything I need, I flick the light off and start walking back toward the bathroom, only Bishop catches my hand as I pass him, his fingers caressing my palm.
I turn to look at him over my shoulder. “You okay?” He’s not usually touchy-feely, so this is new territory we’re both walking through, but it feels right. He makes my heart race and my blood rush, but it feels right.
Tilting his head, he looks into my eyes then runs his thumb over my knuckles. “Yeah, yeah, I am now. Want me to run you a bath? You don’t want to get that wet.” He points up to my head, and I touch it, remembering the bandage and remembering I got shot—or grazed.
But still, I got shot.
Oh my God.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, obviously noticing my facial expressions. Tilting his head to the other side, his fingers stay laced with mine.
I grin a little. “I’m a bit of a badass. I’ve been shot!”
He chuckles, letting go of my hand and slapping my ass. “Get in the shower.”
I bite down on my lip and quickly rush into the bathroom.
“And lock that fucking door!” Bishop yells, his voice vibrating through the thin walls.
I laugh, shaking my head and unbuttoning my jeans before slipping them off. Scrubbing myself in the shower, I want to stay in for longer than I do but I also really want to be near Bishop right now, so I flick off the faucet and grab the towel, wrapping it around myself. Drying my body, I already feel much better than I did five minutes ago. Slipping on my boy-shorts and my loose gray sweatpants, I toss on my tight black tank and put my
