So Happy Together (Bishop Family Book 4)

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So Happy Together (Bishop Family Book 4) Page 3

by Brooke St. James

"You didn't," she said. "I just came out here to text my brother. He was checking on me."

  "That's sweet of him," I said. I came to stand next to her at the edge of the balcony. It was warm out, but the wind was blowing, and I took a long slow breath in through my nose, taking in the salty ocean air. "The ocean is good for you," I said.

  "I'm gonna try to go for a swim tomorrow before we leave," Ivy said. "Daniel said he doesn't think we'll have time, but I'll end up talking him into it if we get up early enough."

  "We'll definitely have time for a swim," I said. "We have the day off tomorrow. We're not leaving for New Orleans until after dinner, I think."

  "Yeah, but we're going back to Memphis—me and Daniel. I think our flight's at noon or one. Daniel said something about his replacement being here in the morning."

  I literally felt sick at the mention of Daniel leaving. I already lived my life on the verge of being nauseous, anyway, and the news of him leaving after only one day made me feel rejected and heartbroken.

  "Does your brother not like me or something?" I asked.

  Ivy glanced at me with a concerned expression. "Who, Daniel?"

  "Yes."

  "No, no, no, he likes you. I think he knew he was only filling in for one day while they found a more permanent solution. Daniel doesn't usually work with clients. He normally stays home in Memphis and trains the guys at Alpha rather than going on the road. He just did this because we were right there in Orlando."

  "What if I want him to stay with me until Trevor gets back?" I asked. "I'm the one paying for it. What if I don't want another substitute?"

  Ivy shrugged innocently and made a face like she didn't really want to get involved. "I know Daniel doesn't normally work with clients," she repeated.

  "Does he not like me?" I repeated, feeling hurt.

  "No, he likes you a lot," she said.

  "Why doesn’t he act like it? He barely says more than two words to me."

  "That's just Daniel. He's quiet. He's always like that. He carries a lot of stuff around with him."

  "Like what?"

  Ivy paused for a second and then looked over her shoulder, hesitating as if she thought her brother might hear her.

  "Don't tell anybody I told you this," she whispered.

  I nodded.

  "He and my brother, Owen, had an accident when we were younger. I was just a little kid. Daniel and Owen were in middle school."

  "What happened?"

  "They took one of my dad's motorcycles without permission. Daniel was twelve. He was driving, and they had a really bad accident. Nobody died or anything, but Owen got hurt really bad. He's got a pretty noticeable scar all down the side of his face, and he has a fake leg."

  "A fake leg?" I asked, thinking I hadn't heard her correctly. I glanced at her and she nodded, looking over her shoulder again.

  "His right leg," she whispered. "He doesn't have a foot or anything. He uses a prosthesis."

  "Seriously?"

  She nodded sadly. "Owen doesn't hold it against Daniel, but my parents say Daniel's never really forgiven himself. He went off the deep end right after it happened. He got into drugs and stuff. He was pretty wild for a few years. My mom cried all the time. My parents were scared he was trying to kill himself. That's why Uncle Gray started training him with martial arts and stuff. He's fine now. He's stable and he doesn't drink or do drugs or anything, but he also doesn't really let go and have fun like he did when we were kids. I think he feels too guilty for that. He'll say the accident has nothing to do with it, but we all know it does. He hasn't been the same since then. I know he wishes he could trade places with Owen. I think, in the back of his mind, he thinks Owen won't be able to find a girlfriend or wife with his leg the way it is, so Daniel doesn't date girls. He didn't even go to the high school prom or anything. I heard our mom say he unintentionally tries to punish himself."

  I thought of Daniel. I thought of his physical appearance and marveled at how crazy it was someone who looked like him and could probably have any girl he wanted refused to date. I quietly contemplated everything Ivy had just said, feeling like my heart was broken for him.

  "I shouldn't have told you all that," she said, seeing me go introspective. "He would kill me if he knew I told you. I don't want you to judge him because of what I said. He really is a great person. That was a long time ago."

  "I'm really glad you told me that," I said. "I was trying to get him to laugh all day today, and he just kept being so serious. I thought maybe he didn't like me or something."

  "No, he really likes you. He told me before I came over here that he thought you were cool."

  "Then why is he getting someone else to fill in for Trevor? Why doesn't he just stay with me until Trevor gets better?"

  Ivy shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "You'll have to ask him that. But I think it's because he doesn't normally work with clients. Usually he stays home at the training center in Memphis."

  Chapter 4

  It was one o'clock in the morning when I kicked everyone out of my room so I could get some sleep. We always made sure to reserve multi-bedroom suites so that Denise and Trevor could have their own bedrooms. Denise was tired and went into her room right after we finished the show. It was quiet in the suite once everybody left, but I was still so amped from the show that it took me a while to fall asleep.

  My eyes opened at 3am.

  I was sweating and out of breath, and my heart was racing like mad in spite of the fact that I was laying in bed. A wave of nausea hit me as I focused on the clock, realizing I had only been asleep for an hour. I laid my head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling, begging myself to calm down and go back to sleep.

  I threw the covers off. I was hot and sweaty and breathing heavily. It wasn't the first time I had experienced this—waking up in the middle of an anxiety attack or whatever it was. It was something that happened to me on a somewhat regular basis—and it definitely became more frequent while I was on tour. Sometimes I was able to make myself calm down and go back to sleep within a few minutes, and other times it would take me an hour or two.

  I took deep breaths in and then out as I stared at the ceiling. I tried to convince myself that I wasn't dying and this was something that had happened a hundred times before. I did my best to get my nerves under control, but in moments like this, my brain seemed to overthink without my permission.

  Tonight my thoughts turned to Daniel.

  I thought about his brother and imagined the accident. I could see it in my mind's eye. I felt pain in my heart for Daniel and for his little brother and wanted to somehow comfort them both. Thinking about Daniel made me mad that he was planning on leaving me the following day. I had truly done my best to be nice to him, and I thought for sure he would fill in until Trevor got better.

  As I lay there, I found myself wishing that Daniel would just take Trevor's place for good, and that's when I knew I was being irrational. I rolled over in an effort to comfort my aching stomach and distract myself from the ridiculous thoughts.

  I stayed there for about half an hour, trying my best not to think of Daniel or any other stressful subjects before I finally broke down and reached out to him. If I needed company so bad, I probably should have just asked Denise to come crawl into bed with me. It was something I had done several times in the past, and she never gave me grief about it.

  I didn't text Denise, though.

  It was Daniel that I contacted.

  I typed out a text to the number Denise had given me earlier.

  Me: "Can you come to my room?"

  Not even a minute had passed when I heard him come into the main door of the suite. I saw a light come on in the living room, and I squinted even though barely any of it was filtering into my bedroom.

  Seconds later, my bedroom door opened and Daniel switched on the light. I closed my eyes and put my hand over my face, feeling shocked by the sudden brightness.

  "Courtney?" He was speaking quietly, but his deep voice cut throug
h the silent room.

  "I'm fine," I assured him. "Can you please turn off the light?"

  He turned off the light and started to cross to my bedside. "Can you turn off the living room light, too, so we don't wake Denise up?"

  Daniel disappeared into the other room, turning off the light before coming to stand in my doorway again. There was still some light in the living room, and my eyes were already adjusted to the darkness, so I could see him standing there. He had on sweatpants and a fitted white t-shirt.

  "Are you okay?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  He stood there as if waiting for me to explain why I had beckoned him.

  "I just woke up feeling really anxious, and I wanted you to come in here."

  My voice came out vulnerably, and this caused Daniel to walk toward me, stopping at my bedside. I scooted over and patted the bed, inviting him to sit down. In one motion, he took something from his backside, and set it securely on the bedside table as he sat on the edge of the bed.

  "You brought a gun?" I asked.

  "I wasn't planning on using it, but I figured I should have it just in case. I didn't know why you called."

  He shifted and stared down at me. He was right next to me, and it still didn't feel close enough. I wanted to touch him—just reach out and rub his back or something crazy like that.

  "Can you please just stay in here for a minute?" I asked. "Just lay here on top of the covers while I try to fall back asleep?"

  "Is that what Trevor does?"

  "No," I said defensively. "I mean I guess he has a couple of times, but nothing happens between us. The way you asked it makes me feel like you think I'm…" I hesitated. "I just wanted you to lay in here with me for a minute, that's all."

  Daniel turned and stretched out onto the edge of my bed. I knew by the way he conducted himself that he thought it was his professional duty to do what I asked. Honestly, I really didn't care what compelled him to stay, I only cared that he was staying. He propped himself on the very edge of my bed, stiffly resting his head on the pillow.

  I took a long, shaky breath.

  "Are you okay?" he asked.

  "Super nauseous," I whispered. "And cold sweats. I wake up like this sometimes—mostly when I'm on tour. It's a stomach ulcer that acts up when I'm on the road. Basically, I've been having a pending stomachache for the past seven years."

  "I know the feeling," he said.

  "You have pending stomachaches, too?"

  "Yes," he said with no hesitation whatsoever. "All the time. I started putting a drop of peppermint oil in my water a few years ago, and that helps a little."

  "Why do you get stomachaches?" I asked.

  "Why do you?"

  "Because I hate touring. I love my fans and everything, but touring tears me up physically. It's not just the bodily strain of being on the road, either. I just don't think I handle the pressure very well."

  "Yes you do," he said. "Not many people could do what you do."

  We stayed there in silence for what must have been at least two minutes before I spoke again.

  "Why are you leaving," I asked.

  "I'm not," he answered, thinking I was referring to leaving the bed.

  "Why are you leaving the tour? Why are you going back to Memphis? Your sister told me you were leaving."

  Daniel took a deep breath. "I talked to Gray earlier this evening. We've got a great guy lined up for you. Eric. He'll be here tomorrow, and I'll give him the rundown on everything before I head home."

  "Why can't you do it?" I asked.

  He was quiet for a moment as if contemplating how to answer my question. "It's like you said. I'm just not cut out for life on the road."

  "It seems like you are doing a good job to me," I said, still resting my head on the pillow next to him.

  "Well, thank you, but I'm better suited to work at the training center. I'm not really cut out for reassuring people and laughing at their jokes."

  "You laughed at a couple of my jokes," I said.

  "Only the ones that were funny," he said.

  I thought back to our interactions during the course of the day. We had lots of time together while I was running around Miami doing interviews. We had several lengthy conversations, but I always felt like I had to drag information out of him. Ivy was right. He was a man of few words, and I could understand how some people might be offended by that. I thought about what she had told me and wondered how much of his quiet personality was a result of the accident.

  I liked him so much. Truly identified with him and felt desperate to make him stay.

  "I don't want a substitute. I want you to stay with me. I want you to come to New Orleans with us."

  "I am a substitute," he said. "Anybody but Trevor is a substitute. You'll like Eric better than me, I promise."

  "No, I won't. I don't want anyone else. I'll pay more if I have to."

  Daniel breathed a little laugh. I was so close to him that I could feel his chest shake. I picked up my head and looked at him. There was enough light in the room that I could clearly see his face.

  "I'm serious," I said, staring straight at him. "I'll pay whatever it takes to make you stay. I don't want you to leave."

  He stared at me as if wondering if he could possibly be hearing me right. "You'll really like Eric," he said. "He's a good looking guy. Smart too. He was an Army Ranger. I have a picture of him on my phone if you want to see what he looks like."

  "Why do you think I'll care what he looks like? Do you think I'm attracted to you or something?" I probably sounded a little offended because the truth was, I was.

  "No," he said. "I'm just saying, you'll really like Eric. He's a good guy."

  "I don't want Eric, though. I want you, Daniel."

  He rubbed my shoulder in a comforting manner. "You just need to get some sleep," he said.

  It sounded like he thought I was delirious, which was frustrating.

  "Can you just think about staying, please?"

  "Would it make you feel better if I say I'll think about it?" he asked.

  "It will if you'll really think about it."

  "Okay, I'll think about it, then," he said.

  I knew he was just saying that to get me to quit asking. "I love your little sister," I said. "She's a sweetheart, and so cute."

  "I really appreciate you being so nice to her. She loves your music and was really excited when I got the call to come down here."

  "Let her come with us to New Orleans, then."

  "No," he said instantly. "Even if I would decide to fill in for Trevor, there's no way I would take her. It's too much for me to try to protect both of you at the same time. That's out of the question. I can't even believe I let her talk me into coming here."

  "It worked out fine," I said. "Nina and Jack loved her, and I think she helped them out backstage."

  "Yeah, but it's not gonna happen again. I had to double up on peppermint oil worrying about both of you."

  I let out a little laugh at his statement, figuring it was probably the truth. "Do you really have stomach problems?" I asked sincerely.

  "Yes, I do."

  "Me too."

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  "I'm sorry for you, too."

  "It's fine," he said. "You learn to ignore it after about ten years."

  "What in the world gave you a stomachache for that long, Daniel?"

  "Nothing," he said. "I think you need to get some sleep."

  "Why won't you talk to me?"

  "I have been talking to you. I've been talking to you way more than I talk to most people."

  "Please don't leave me," I whispered.

  He rubbed my arm but didn't say anything.

  "Please," I said, feeling like it was necessary to make him promise before I could possibly fall asleep.

  "I really think you'll like Eric," he said. "How about we just let you meet him tomorrow, and we'll see how it goes from there?"

  "And what if I meet him and say I still want you to st
ay? Will you stay?"

  "Sure," he said.

  I knew it wasn't an empty promise, but I also knew he was convinced I would like Eric.

  "So if I still feel the same way tomorrow, you'll stay with me?"

  "Yes," he said. "Until Trevor gets better."

  That was a good enough for me. I smiled peacefully, feeling safe and secure and anxiety free for a change.

  Chapter 5

  It was just after 7am when I opened my eyes again. I was facing the clock on the bedside table, and it registered right away that I only had a few hours sleep. I almost began moving around and stretching out, but then I realized that I was still curled up next to Daniel, so rather than moving or adjusting, I stayed completely still.

  I was overjoyed that he made the choice to stay in my room, and I didn't want to ruin it by doing something silly like waking up. Daniel was still on top of the covers. He was sleeping stiffly on the edge of the bed, and I knew any sudden movement would wake him up. So, for a few minutes, I stayed completely still.

  Maybe it was ridiculous since I was just getting to know Daniel Bishop, but I had never felt so safe in my whole life, and I wanted to stay right there curled up next to him forever. Being next to him was like medicine, and I just rested there, contently basking in the sweet relief I felt.

  Was it possible to fall in love with someone this quickly?

  I had a whole string of thoughts about love at first sight and the impossibility of it as I lay there, trying to remain completely motionless. I wanted to stretch out, but I didn't want the moment to end.

  I'd never felt this way about anyone.

  I couldn't stop thinking that it must be love.

  I loved his story.

  I even thought I loved his family despite the fact that I had never met them.

  Somewhere deep in my bones, I just innately loved Daniel Bishop for who he was. I thought about the accident with his brother and the baggage he had been carrying for so long, and I realized that none of that was a surprise to me—it was like I already knew him and somehow already had his story etched in my heart before his sister even shared it with me.

  He was a breathtakingly handsome man. His face was like a chiseled superhero and his body looked and moved like he was an athlete, but my attraction to him had little to do with his physical appearance. It was more than that. It was like my heart found its home when I was next to him.

 

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