Rattled.
It’s a good word to describe it, but I want Bishop more than just rattled.
I want her to give in to this attraction. Allow this tension to pull her to me. I want her to want to pin me again, in a very different setting.
Not that I would tell her cousin any of that.
“We had a little run-in at the club the other day, and I don’t think she liked it very much.”
One of Astrid’s blond brows rises. “Why is that?”
“Because I stepped in to help one of the girls.”
They both wince and Astrid nods. “Yeah, I could see how that wouldn’t sit well with her. She’s under the impression that it’s her sole responsibility to ensure everyone with the name Hawke on this planet remains safe.”
I nod. “I kind of gathered that.”
Atlas reaches up and rubs at the massive scar on his shoulder from when he was shot. The newspaper articles and news broadcasts gave a lot of details of the attack, enough to know that Astrid almost died from her wounds, too.
I can only imagine how Bishop must have felt after that…
“Was she with you guys when…”—I incline my head toward his hand, and it freezes—“that happened?”
Astrid’s back stiffens, and the color fades from her face as she clears her throat and glances away. She shifts on her feet, pressing her hand over her abdomen as if she can still feel the wound there.
Clearly uncomfortable discussing the shooting, she keeps her gaze diverted on anything but me, which is completely reasonable considering I’m a stranger and it was likely the most traumatic event in her life.
Atlas shakes his head. “She was downstairs in the building lobby and chased after the gunman but couldn’t find him.”
“That must have been very frustrating for her.”
He nods, his hand falling away from his shoulder. “You have no fucking idea.”
I think I do.
It’s clear Bishop has a sole focus. One thing she allows herself to think about day in and day out. And that’s her responsibility and her role in the Hawke family.
Her protective instinct is so ingrained that she doesn’t know how to turn it off, doesn’t know how to stop worrying, even now.
She doesn’t trust me and is running through all the potential reasons I would have to be here, all the ulterior motives. Making a threat assessment and planning what action she would need to take to secure them if she needed to.
That shouldn’t be so fucking hot.
It should be a warning to put as much space between us as possible.
But just like a moth drawn to the flame, her fire and spark light up my world in a way that prevents me from doing anything but walk straight into the conflagration. Damn the consequences.
Even now, I have to force myself to keep my focus on Astrid and Atlas and not allow my eyes to drift over to her. “Well, thanks again, guys.”
Atlas grins. “I’ll call you. We’ll do it again soon.”
“Perfect.”
Because something tells me I’m going to be needing that kind of release and relief from the conflict raging in my head and heart.
With my bag slung over my shoulder, I move toward the front door and the rain outside that’s finally starting to let up.
And it’s getting harder and harder to do without looking back at her.
