I wasn’t really sure what Bishop’s deal was, but I wasn’t the type of girl to grab him and plant a kiss on him to prove there was a spark between us. Nor was I the type to stand outside his window with a boombox over my head. I was plenty used to unrequited crushes, if not outright rejection, though that was rare because I never put myself out there to get turned down. Convinced I’d likely never see him again, I set off to reclaim my life the way it was before waking up in the morgue. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I got home. The last time I’d seen Bridget, I’d been attached to her hand by the mouth, using her like my own private juice box. Though Bishop had promised me he’d taken care of it, I had no idea what that actually entailed. Had he wiped her memory and sent her to bed? I was afraid she’d react to me with fear based on some visceral level that knew I’d attacked her, but all I got was a broad wink when I walked through the door. “Someone had a good time last night.
What do You think about Wake Me When The Sun Goes Down?
