Were they? Maybe. Maybe not.
But that girl? Shewasbetter than me. And the way it looked, she damn well knew it.
But somehow, I was gonna make her forget.
Chapter 2
"That girl?" Bishop said. "She's trouble."
We were sitting in my study. I glanced out the front window just in time to seeher, the girl with the terrier, walking along the sidewalk just outside my gate. She moved forward, looking perfect as ever, with her designer clothes and designer dog.
I turned back to Bishop, my half-brother and full-time cynic. "Who's trouble?" I asked.
"Cut the crap," he said. "You know damn well who."
Outside, the girl kept going. Her gaze remained straight ahead while the dog dragged her along like a sugar-junkie on uppers. A smile played across her lips, and I felt myself swallow. She was so fucking beautiful I wanted to die.
She wasn't trouble. She was Heaven on Earth.
"And why is it," Bishop continued, "that every time she walks by, you stop whatever you're doing to stare at her?"
No way I'd be telling himthisstory. So I only shrugged. "Hey, she's worth staring at."
One time, maybe a couple years ago, I made the mistake of mentioning her, Hospital Girl, as I called her back then. All I got was a load of grief.
I didn't want grief. I wantedher.
In my study, Bishop turned in his chair to give the girl a good, long look. He watched until she was nearly out of sight. Slowly, he turned back. "Maybe."
"There's no maybe," I said. "Just look at her."
He didn't move. "Too late. She's gone."
"Good," I told him.
His eyebrows lifted. "Good?"
"Yeah," I said, "because you don't deserve to look at a girl like that."
"Is that so?" He gave something like a laugh. "What's so special abouther?"
Bishop wasn't the sentimental type. I knew that. He knew that. So I grasped at something easy, something even he might understand. "She has nice hair."
"Nice hair?"
"Yeah." Again, I glanced out the window. She was long gone. But in my mind, I could still see her. "It's like sun-kissed, you know?"
"Sun-kissed?" His voice was flat. "Like an orange?"
I pulled my gaze from the window and stared at him for a long moment. With most people, they'd look away. Not Bishop. His gaze held, and the silence stretched out. Brother or not, he could still be a royal pain in my ass.
"Oh, fuck off," I finally said.
As usual, he ignored the insult. "Why is it," he asked, "that she never looks atyou?"
I knew why. For one thing, I wasn't her type. "Why should she?"
"Everyone else does." Bishop leaned back in his seat. "Why should she be different?"
