Page 104

“I can read.” His eyebrows shoot up. “But apparently I’ve been reading the wrong stuff.”

“You know what I mean, but now that you mention it, Sports Weekly is probably more your speed.”

“Careful. Your fancy publishing job might be making you a little judgey.”

I kick at him beneath the blanket. He catches my fuzzy-socked foot against his thigh.

“Violent too? My, my, what is this book you’re reading?”

“Give. It. Back.”

Instead, the asshole flips it over and reads the blurb.

I know the exact second he gets to the tropes. His grin disappears. Not completely. Just enough.

“Forced proximity,” he reads.

I stop reaching. “Very popular.”

“Forbidden.” My mouth goes dry when he says the word out loud.

“Also, popular.” I shrug.

His eyes move lower. Then stop.

Oh God.

Slowly, Bishop looks at me, and when he speaks, his voice drops lower. “Brother’s best friend?”

A flush of heat creeps up my neck. Suddenly, I’m way too warm beneath this blanket and very aware of everything from the quiet hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen to Darcy purring somewhere near my hip.

Bishop’s fingers curl around my book. And his hooded eyes land on mine.

“Give me my book.” I hold out my hand.

But he doesn’t give it to me.

“Tell me something first.”

“What?”

His gaze drops not to the book but to my mouth. And my breath catches.

“Does he break the rule?”

I swallow. “What rule?”

Bishop leans down closer, crowding me back into the couch.

“The one about touching his best friend’s little sister.”

My thighs clench beneath the blanket before I can stop them.

His eyes flick down—no way could he have noticed.

His nostrils flare once. Then his gaze slowly lifts back to mine. He noticed.

My heart stutters.