Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 133180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“Good,” Bishop mumbled and kissed his jaw one last time. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay.” Edison watched Bishop take a couple of muffins and a glass of juice off the bar before he winked at him and left through the patio door.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Bishop
Bishop was glad Trent had agreed to help him with Edison’s yard, even after he’d told him about doing it for zero labor cost. He’d thought his friend’s head was gonna pop off. Which would’ve been better than his dad’s reaction when he found out. It was a big job, one that could pad their meager bank accounts with a thousand each, but the second he explained—the best he could, how Edison had looked at him, had treated him—Trent had agreed with no further argument.
“Dude, you were in there begging like, Elvis.” Trent broke the silence as they cleared away dead bushes and unkempt shrubs along the side fence where the grill would be. With the shovel in his hand, that jackass sang his best Don’t Be Cruel impression, complete with the hip swagger and curled lip.
“Shut up,” Bishop grumbled, tossing some debris at Trent.
Trent laughed loudly, “I’m just saying. I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Me either.” Bishop kept his head down and his hands in the earth.
“So, what is it about him, man?
“He’s different.”
“You said that a zillion times already.” Trent got back to work. “Besides that he looks hella different than your last boyfriend, and has a much better job. How else is he so different, B?”
Bishop thought about it for a moment. There were too many to name and too many personal ones that he wouldn’t share with Trent. “You’ll just have to trust me.”
“Did you tell him?”
Bishop rolled his eyes, his neck getting stiff as his shoulders rose up to his ears. “I told him the most important thing… and he didn’t even blink.”
“Are you gonna tell him about—?”
“Soon. I just gotta get some things in line with that Adult Learning Center and I will.” A hard knot formed in the pit of Bishop’s stomach any time he tried to think of a way to tell his super-smart executive that he’d just agreed to date an illiterate. He couldn’t do it. Not until he had a concrete plan that he could lay out for Edison to prove that he wasn’t comfortable where he was in life, and he was going to work nonstop to change it. Once Edison saw how hard he was working, and how dedicated he was, then maybe it wouldn’t make a difference. Bishop shook his head. He could fool a lot of people. But not himself.
They’d gotten a lot accomplished in one day—he and Trent working together like a well-oiled machine—and he could finally see his boots when he walked through the backyard. Edison had come to the door every now and then to offer them cool drinks, but he mostly stayed at the dining table on his laptop. He wondered if that was what Edison did every weekend when he returned from his morning flea markets. He looked so alone, and there’d been more than one time that Bishop wanted to stop what he’d been working on to go inside and sit and talk with him. However, he’d stayed on task, wanting to show off at the same time. They didn’t stop until six and as they packed the equipment onto the trailer, Edison stood at the patio doors gaping at the stripped yard.
“It looks a mess now… but just keep thinking of the sketch.” Bishop smiled, walking past with more bags of grass to place on the curb for garbage pickup.
Edison blinked. “No. It’s not that. I’m just shocked how fast y’all are.”
“Thank you,” Bishop said.
“All right, man. I’m outta here, Edison. Bishop can take it from here,” Trent said with a small salute as he left out of the side gate.
“Thanks so much, Trent,” Edison said politely.
Bishop stood there, dirty, and sweaty, wishing he could lean in and bury his face in Edison’s clean neck but he had better manners than that.
“I was gonna put some steaks on the grill and watch a movie or something,” Edison said in one long breath, as if he’d been building up the nerve to ask that all day.
“Ugh.” Bishop hooked one finger in Edison’s track pants and gave him a gentle tug towards him. “I really want to do that, and it sounds really good… but, I’m a mess.”
“I see,” Edison said breathlessly.
“Raincheck, okay?” Bishop was close but not enough to touch, and his body burned as he continued to catch whiffs of Edison’s scent. God, he wanted to stay, and a steak sounded like it’d hit the spot. He’d been going all day with only a twenty-minute break to scarf down his crappy lunch he’d packed. “Next time I’ll bring something I can change into, so I don’t mess up your couch.”