She rushed toward the driver’s side, found the keys still in the ignition where he always kept them at the clubhouse. No one would touch his car as he was Preacher’s son. The one label he hated being called actually kept his car safe.

Turning over the ignition, she smiled, reversing out of the space and leaving the clubhouse.

She glanced behind her, and no one tried to stop her.

With every mile she took, she felt lighter.

This thing between her and Bishop, it was over. She wasn’t going to be with him. There was no reason to keep on pretending they were going to be together. It wasn’t going to happen. They were too different, and no matter what they were in the past, she couldn’t go back. There was no going back, only forward.

There was a reason she was jealous of those women. When it came to Preacher, she didn’t want him to be with anyone else. It was selfish of her, but she wanted him all to herself, and she didn’t know what else to do.

The thought of other women, she hated it.

Seeing Bishop, hearing him, there was no feeling because there was nothing there for her to be jealous of.

There was no point in caring.

They were best friends.

Their married state was because their family needed them to be, but other than that, there was no connection. She’d always care about him, love him, but it was never on the scale that Bishop wanted. She didn’t even know if he loved her, or if he just thought he loved her.

Pressing her foot to the gas, she gunned the engine, needing to clear this matter up in her head once and for all.

The drive felt way too long, and she didn’t try to think about the possibility of rejection. She had to know the truth one way or another, and the only way to find it out, was to confront it head on.

Finally pulling into Preacher’s driveway, she turned off the ignition and didn’t see any sign of another car that would let her know he had company.

Climbing out of the car, she took the steps and moved toward the door. She went to grip the doorknob, but stopped herself, stepping back.

What the hell are you doing?

Why are you stopping?

What do you have to lose?

What did she have to lose?

Her feelings for Bishop were never going to change. They hadn’t changed in the past eighteen years. Their friendship was more important to her than sleeping with him.

She stepped into Preacher’s house, closing the door, flicking the lock into place. Her heart raced, and she felt a coil in the pit of her stomach, which made her feel sick.

Still, she didn’t back down.

Soft, classical music played. The kind Preacher liked.