13. Emmy
“You can’t ride two horses with one ass, sugar bean.”
I laugh at my favorite line in Sweet Home Alabama. It’s been a while since I’ve watched the movie, but it never gets old. And when I’m feeling off, it’s my go-to.
Before I know it, the credits start to roll, and I turn the TV off. I make it to the stairs but stop in my tracks when there’s a pounding at my front door.
Who the hell is here this late?
A sliver of apprehension creeps in, but I ignore it as I backtrack to the door.
“Who is it?” I call out.
“It’s me.”
I quickly unlock the deadbolt and yank open the door. Inferno is standing on my porch, and he looks?—
“Are you drunk?” I snap, annoyed.
“What? No.” He shakes his head, but I’m not convinced. “I’m tired though.”
“You’re tired?”
“Yep. I’m not used to being tired, so I came here… to you.”
“To me?”
I feel like a broken record repeating everything he says, but I’m tired too and not firing on all cylinders.
“Can I come in?”
I should tell him no. I should insist that he leave so I can go to bed. But I do neither of those things.
“Sure,” I respond, stepping to the side so he can come in.
After locking the door, I turn to face him. Inferno is now pacing the length of my living room, and his lips are moving, but no words are coming out.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
He freezes and lifts his eyes to mine. “What?”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. No.” He sighs loudly as he scrubs his hands over his face. “Hell, I don’t know.”
I smile slightly. This is a side of him I haven’t seen, and it’s kinda adorable. I open my mouth to encourage him to talk, but he starts before I can make a peep.
“I was worried about you,” he says quickly. “With everything going on, I was sitting at home worrying and figured I might as well come here and worry where I can at least keep an eye on you.”
I smirk. “Sorta like you did the other night when you didn’t go home.” His eyes widen comically. “Yeah, I know about that. I saw your bike from my window before I went to bed.”
“Um, sorry about?—”
He presses his lips into a flat line when I hold up my hand. “You don’t have to apologize. It was sweet.”
“Sweet?” His tone suggests he has a problem with my description.
“Would you prefer manly?”
Inferno’s forehead wrinkles as he contemplates my questions. “Well, yeah. I think most men would.”
I can’t stop the snort that escapes. “Fine. It was manly.”
He rolls his eyes, and I chuckle. “Anyway, I was worrying at home and decided to worry here instead. And all that worrying made me fucking tired.”
“Well, as you can see, I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.”
He groans. “That’s just it. When it comes to you, I can’t seem to stop it. I can tell you’re leery of me, apprehensive, but my brain doesn’t seem to give a shit.”
“Okay,” I say, drawing out the word.
Inferno flops down onto my couch as if he can no longer physically stand. “I’m so fucking tired.”
Without thinking, I move toward him and pull him to his feet. “Then let”s go get some sleep.”
This big hulk of a man lets me lead him like a stray puppy up the stairs and into my bedroom. I push him onto the mattress so I can take his boots off. All the while, he remains pliable and open to my every move.
It takes some doing, but I get him down to his boxer briefs—without jumping his bones I might add—and urge him under the blanket. Then I walk around the bed and crawl in beside him.
“What is this?” he asks quietly after a few silent minutes pass.
“You’re tired,” I tell him. “This is you getting sleep.”
“I don’t sleep.”
“Everyone sleeps.” I turn on my side and tuck my arm under my head. “‘Night, Inferno.”
“‘Night, Emmy,” he slurs.
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I sleep through the night. No nightmares plague me, no middle-of-the-night thoughts keep me up. And when I wake up, I feel rested and…
Oh, shit.
I roll over and stare into a pair of dark eyes.
“Morning,” Inferno says.
“M-morning.”
How the hell could I forget there was a man in my bed?
“I’m sorry about last night.”
“Oh, um, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“You should probably get up and get ready for work,” he says casually as if he wakes up in my bed every morning.
“Yep.”
“I can see myself out.”
Inferno crawls out of bed and stretches. My panties dampen at the sight of his muscular frame and the ink covering his skin. He really is a magnificent man, and all I want to do right now is climb him like a tree.
“My eyes are up here.”
I swallow and lift my head. Inferno is smirking, and it gives him a sexy devilish appearance.
“Right. Eyes.”
Wow, Em. Get a grip.
I watch as he gets dressed, silently cursing the fact that clothes were ever invented. If ever someone should rock their birthday suit, it’s Inferno.
Suddenly, Inferno sits back on the mattress and pulls me close to him. “I’ve got a question.”
Suspicion rains on my mental sex parade. “What?”
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
My brows shoot up in shock. “Like a date?”
He nods. “Yeah, like a date.”
“Yes,” I blurt, and he chuckles at my exuberance.
“Good. I’ll give you a call later to make plans.”
“Sounds good.”
Inferno presses a kiss to my forehead, and then he’s gone. My hand goes to the spot where his lips touched, and I swear I can hear my skin sizzling.
What is happening?!?