Page 100 of The Echo of Regret

“So…I’m the one who will get us to think about things, and you’ll be the one who gets us to talk about them?”

He grins. “Sounds like a match made in heaven.”

I hum, liking the way it sounds. Bishop leans in and kisses me, his tongue dipping into my mouth and tangling with mine in a way that sends shivers down to my toes. It feels wild, knowing this is the man I’ll be kissing for the rest of my life. We might not be married, or even engaged, but I have that much faith in us.

In what we want.

In where we’re going.

In who we will become.

And that feeling—that knowing—settles something restless in my heart.

chapter twenty-seven

Bishop

I stomp the snow off my feet as I enter Ugly Mug, the wet liquid dropping to the mats resting on the ground just inside the door.

The storm that hit Cedar Point a few days ago knocked out some powerlines and kept people at home for three full days. Thankfully, most of the main road finally got plowed yesterday, meaning I can grab a much-needed cup of coffee in town instead of drinking the dark muck my parents have been making since, if I had to guess based on the age of the can it comes in, probably the 1800s.

Unfortunately, it looks like everyone else had the exact same idea, because there are at least fifteen people in line ahead of me, and when I finally make it to the counter, I find out they’re out of pretty much everything I like except for drip coffee, so I order a large one of those. Once I’ve added cream and sugar, I pop the lid back on and head over to an empty table, knowing I want to take my time after the harrowing drive from the house.

Almost as soon as I sit down, I spot a familiar face seated at the table across from me.

“Hey, Coach G!” I say, pushing out of my chair and crossing over to where he sits. “Mind if I sit with you?”

My old baseball coach gives me a surly nod as I take a seat. “Good to see you, Bishop. Heard you’ve been in town because of an injury.”

Chuckling, I nod, rolling up my sleeve to show him the tiny scar left over from surgery.

“Wrist and three fingers. But I’m mostly feeling back to normal now.”

He hums. “You’re lucky.”

I nod again, glancing back at my wrist as I rotate it around. “That I am. I had an amazing surgeon, and I followed the rehab plan to the letter.”

Coach G barks a laugh. “Color me shocked,” he says. “You always struggled to follow directions when you were younger.”

“Well, we all grow up at some point, I guess.”

“You’ve also been helping Rush out with the team, huh?”

I lean back in my chair, grinning at how much he seems to be paying attention to what I’m doing these days.

“Those kids giving you a hard time?”

“Most of them are pretty great,” I reply, holding my coffee between both hands. “But there’s one who might give me more shit than I’d like.”

Coach G smirks. “You have a little Bishop, then?”

Shaking my head, I narrow my eyes playfully. “Was I really that difficult? I know I wasn’t easy, but…I always thought I was at least fun, even if I did get on your bad side now and again.”

He waves a hand at me. “You weren’t so bad, and you were never ‘on my bad side’. But sometimes you want a kid to take things seriously when they just want to joke around.” He shrugs. “I’m sure you’ve seen how that can be, helping out.”

I twist my lips, knowing he’s right. “Well, now that I know all the shit you had to deal with, I guess I’ll take this chance to say…I appreciate you and all you taught me back then. Even if I made teaching me more difficult than it needed to be.”

At my words, he gives me a full smile. “You know, most coaches wait their entire lives to hear that from their favorite player, if they ever get to hear it at all.” He reaches out and pats my hand. “Thank you, son.”

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