“Bye.”
Once he leaves, I fall back on my bed with the biggest grin on my face. I’m in love with him and even better I think he’s falling for me too. Fuck yeah.
NINE
BISHOP
Bent over staining a table in my garage, I hear my name called by a familiar voice. I look up and my mouth drops. What the actual fuck?
“Hi.” Tristan walks closer. To say he looks different is an understatement. Both arms are covered in tattoos, and he’s clearly been spending time in the gym. His thick black hair is shorter than it was, and he’s very tan, making the blue of his eyes really stand out. “Busy?”
“You’re home? But it’s only April.”
“I need your help, Bishop.” He steps closer. “With my dad.”
I almost can’t hear him through the pulsing chaos of attraction raging through me right now. I can’t take my eyes off of him. It’s only been four months since I saw him, but he’s changed.
“Bishop?”
Snapping out of it, I pick up a towel to wipe my hands. “What’s going on?”
“I flunked out.”
My eyebrows rise. “What?”
“Three classes. They put me on academic suspension, and um, I’m not going back.”
“Shit.”
“I know. My dad doesn’t know yet, but he’s gonna flip out.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“I don’t know.” His hands slide into his pockets. “Maybe fuck the shit out of me to distract me from dealing with it.”
I shake my head. “Come on, Tristan. This is serious.”
“Come on, what?” He steps closer, grabbing my dick through my shorts. “I need you.”
“Jesus.”
“God, I missed you.”
“We need to talk about school.”
Tristan steps forward, stopping when his chest presses against mine. His cologne seduces my nose, drawing me in a little closer. “I missed you, Bishop. So much. Tell me you missed me too.”
He reaches up and grips my neck, but I pull away. “I’m filthy, Tristan.”
“Good. I want to get filthy with you. Fuck me up, Bishop.”
“You were supposed to focus on school.”
“I tried. I’m just not good at it.” His brow crinkles. “I have to face my dad, but first, I need you. Please.”
Searching his eyes for a moment, I shake my head. Fuck it. I grab him by his t-shirt and push him against the wall. He fixes his eyes on mine, giving me a moment to take in his matured good looks. He was hot before, but good lord, what four months did to him. My thumb brushes over the hair covering his chin.
“Fuck me up,” he whispers.
