The Alternate Journey

Chapter 14

Leaving Maddie in Bendal that day was harder than Bishop had imagined it would be; hugging her close, but not too close. Kissing her cheek while trying not to smell her hair. Leaving her that day was hard—but it was nothing compared to what he tried to do once he arrived in London.

Forget her.

It wasn't something he had intended to do—certainly not something he had planned. It was really more of a survival tactic than anything.

He tried, in vain, to forget what had happened that night but it was next to impossible. He couldn't think of her smile without thinking of her lips on his. He couldn't think of her laugh without remembering her soft giggle, her voice when she told him she wanted to kiss him and...for the life of him, he could not forget the look in her eyes when he told her no.

It had changed him.

She had changed him.

She had taken him down this road he had never been down; this road where he was smitten, taken by someone—for more than just a day, a night, a week. She had put her lips to his and opened up this entire new world of...hope. Possibility. And he didn't know if there was a way back—or if he would even be able to find that way if it did exist.

He desperately wanted to be able to separate Maddie, his friend for years, from Maddie—the beautiful, smart, sexy woman who had tried to kiss him. He wanted to separate the two, he needed to separate the two; his sanity depended on it. He just had no idea how. So he defaulted to the only survival tactic he had left.

Avoidance.

It wasn't easy; avoiding things that reminded him of her, because so many things did. While London held some of their earlier moments, when he went to France it only got worse. He avoided talking about her, he forced his mind to focus on things other than her and then, even though he knew better, even though he knew he shouldn't, he began to avoid her calls.

At first he would answer; keeping the conversations short and surface level. And he knew the exact moment she realized something was up.

"Bishop?" Her voice slanted. "Is...is everything okay? You sound..."

"Everything's fine," he cut her off; quick to reassurance, quick to avoid. "I'm just...really busy."

And she bought that, or at least she gave the impression that she did and things would level out for a bit but then he found that even worse than being flooded with images and thoughts and memories of her—was missing her.

And he did. He missed her more than he knew what to do with. Every time his phone played out that annoying song she had set for him, his heart tugged in his chest. And every time he sent her to voicemail he felt absolutely terrible.

Nothing was working. All of his old standards were failing him; everything he had ever used in the past to move past a woman was simply not working. And he was at a total loss. So much so that one night he actually considered talking to the one person he knew he could never talk to about this.

They were out late one night; Bishop, Harry and the crew. It had been a long few weeks and they were drinking and partying, just as they always had. Bishop was exhausted; physically and mentally and trying to avoid her was a big drain on his resolve. It was three in the morning and they were at the last of the bars on their list and Cassandra had abandoned Harry's lap where she had been giggling off and on all night to go dance with her friends; leaving the two men alone at the table in the corner. It was quiet, finally, and Bishop was enjoying the silence, enjoying the distraction that came with Harry's presence, with the alcohol and the hazy pub. And then it happened; the instantly recognizable tone of "Womanizer".