Page 23 of Secret Sin

I began to pace in the ring. He was right, but it didn’t seem to make me feel any better. Had Pippa been on the app before we’d met? If she had, would she have still been a virgin? I couldn’t say for sure, but I knew it didn’t sit well. I hated the mere idea of her face out there for guys to creep on.

I’d been trying so hard to give her space, but I couldn’t do it. That wasn’t who I was. Pretending to be anything else would be pointless. I had to lay all my cards on the table and make this right. I’d fucked up, and if I didn’t find a way to fix it, I’d lose her forever.

Reason342 to live on my own: no requirement to attend Sunday evening Mass. I wasnotfeeling it, but Mom and Dad insisted I attend if I didn’t have other plans, so I forced myself to get ready for church. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to people. Normally, smiles came easily to me. Any semblance of happiness today would be pure show.

Sighing deeply, I turned off the light in my room and headed to the top of the stairs when the front door chimed. I stilled just out of view of the entry, hoping someone else would deal with whoever had stopped by. Sure enough, Dad’s commanding stride clacked on the wood floors before the door swept open.

“Bishop, I don’t believe we were expecting you.” Dad’s stilted words filtered up, sending my heart rate into a frenzied pace.

Bishop was here? A part of me had been praying he’d reach out, while the rest of me was overcome with embarrassment at the prospect. It was safe to assume he was there for me, but why? To tell me how much I’d hurt him? To ask for a do-over?

If he wanted nothing to do with me, showing up at my house would have been counterproductive. That nugget of truth helped quiet the riotous doubts screaming in my head.

“I’m sorry to show up unannounced, sir. I really need to speak with Pippa.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” my father replied coolly. “She hasn’t been herself for a week now. And if I was a betting man, I’d say you had something to do with that.”

“You’re right. I did something stupid, and even though I didn’t intend to hurt her, I need to apologize. Please, let me do that.” Bishop’s voice was distant. I found myself straining forward to keep from missing a single word.

He was here, and he wanted to apologize! A flutter of cautious optimism filled my chest. I stepped forward and started down the stairs.

“Dad, it’s okay,” I called down to him. “I need to talk to Bishop.”

My father turned to study me, his eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

The same time my foot reached the ground floor, my mother joined us in the entry. “I’m not sure that’s your call to make. Let them sort out their business, Gino,” she chided softly. “We were just about to head to evening Mass. They can talk while we’re gone.” She placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and called upstairs for my brother and sisters.

Dad scowled but didn’t argue. My siblings thundered down the stairs, following my parents to the garage. Then Bishop and I were alone.

Was my house always that silent?

The absence of sound seemed to scream at me from all directions, urging me to say something. To propel us off the knife’s edge toward a resolution, one way or another.

“I’m glad you’re here.” My words echoed in my ears, seeming so much louder than they’d been. I ignored the swell of awkwardness threatening to drown me and forged ahead. “When I first asked you to take me home with you, I was looking to assert my independence and experience life. Never in a million years had I considered it might lead to something more. What were the chances?” I peered up at him, imploring him to understand. “I never meant to hurt you. I was just scared. Everything you wanted was the opposite of what I’d told myself for years that I needed. You showing up at dinner and the nightclub? That freaked me out. I hope you can understand that.”

He moved closer, taking my face in his hands. “This is my fault, Pip. I know that I’ve come on too strong, and that’s not normally like me. You somehow make me do crazy things I never would have done before. Feel crazy shit I never would have felt before.” He paused, his earnest stare piercing me through. “All I wanted was for you to give me a chance. You can still experience the world with me—anything out there, I’ll give it to you. All you have to do is ask,” he said fervently.

“I think I can do that,” I whispered.

Instead of the warmth I’d expected at my answer, Bishop’s gaze dropped, and his brows drew together. “I should have come talk to you sooner, and I’m embarrassed to admit that something in particular brought me here.” His eyes returned to mine as his jaw clenched tightly shut. “I was with Callum earlier, and he happened to find you on Tinder. Please, tell me you didn’t get on that damn app because of me this week.”

“What?” I gasped, eyes wide. I couldn’t fathom what he was talking about until my conversation with Aria came rushing back to me. My eyes drifted shut. “Aria,” I groaned. “We were at a family wedding yesterday. A man asked me to dance, and I accepted because I felt like I should, but everything about it felt wrong. It was so disorienting and upsetting that I stopped mid-dance and ran. My sister found me in the hallway. I explained a little about what had happened between us. She insisted I needed to get out there. That meeting someone new would cheer me up. She told me to create a Tinder profile, and I refused. She must have created it behind my back last night because I’ve never even downloaded the app. Please, believe me. I had nothing to do with that.”

A ragged curse tore from his lips as he swept me into a crushing hug. “Thank Christ.” Relief gave his words wings, and they lifted me straight off the ground. “I hate the thought of you being with anyone else, kitten.”

I held him tight for a second longer, then pulled back to meet his gaze again. “Then why did you set up that meeting with Callum?” I asked, a painful twinge searing through my chest. “Would you really have shared me?”

“I would have tried if that’s what you truly wanted, but I would have hated every goddamn second.”

“Then why did you offer?”

“Because that was the only way I could think of to prove that I’m not the prison sentence you seemed to think I was.”

I shook my head. “No, it wasn’t that.”

“Then what?” His head tilted, eyes pleading for understanding. “Why have you been so resistant?”

“Because I’ve daydreamed for years about beingnormal. Life was supposed to be different for me—dating, travel, maybe even a job. I was going to be a normal girl and not get married off by my father to some man I hardly knew. Go from living under one man’s roof to another’s, never learning to stand on my own.”

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