Inferno - Chelle Bliss by Chelle Bliss

“Only when it hits a little too close to home. Now, tell me what’s happening with the chick.”

I sigh and start to pick at the torn label on the brown bottle. “I don’t know. I like her. I more than like her, but I don’t know if I’m ready for more.”

“Is she ready for more?”

I blink, staring at him. “Fuck. I didn’t even ask.”

“Dummy.” He laughs as he reaches for a fry, giving one a squeeze. “Is it too much to ask for warm fries with a little crispiness to them?”

“It’s the Neon Cowboy. We’re lucky it’s even edible.”

“You really like this chick,” he says, watching my face as closely as our family at the shop earlier.

I shrug again. “I do. More than I really want to.”

He smiles at me, nodding. “Been there. It’s scary as fuck.”

“Terrifying. I mean, look at you. You’re a mess. That’s what relationships do, and I don’t know if I’m ready to fuck up my life like that just yet.”

Asher laughs again. “Stone, man, by the way you’re talking, I’d say it’s already too late.”

“Fuck me,” I groan.

“Is she that mint?”

“Yeah, man. Primo.”

“Maybe you like being the hero.”

I growl. “I’m not a hero.”

“You saved her.”

“She would’ve come to her senses eventually.”

“Maybe or maybe not.” He lifts his hand, holding up two fingers to the waitress when she looks our way. “Doesn’t matter now. You changed her life.”

“Have you ever known me to be a hero?”

He laughs. “Not unless there’s something you want in the end. Maybe you already knew you wanted Opal and put things into motion to make it happen.”

I look at him like he has three heads. “I barely got a look at her when it happened.”

“And the second time?” He tilts his head, gazing at me intently with one raised eyebrow. “Yesterday.”

“Fuck,” I grumble, wiping my hand across my chin. “This is messed up.”

“What’s the problem? I heard she’s beautiful.”

“She is,” I tell him, scratching at my overgrown facial hair. “I don’t bang ugly chicks.”

He shakes his head, but he talks the same way I do. “So, you slept with her. Now what? You going to cut her loose or lock her down?”

I roll my eyes. “You need to stop talking to Jett and Pike.”

“I think it was Mammoth who said those words to me.”

“Whatever.”

He leans forward, pushing the shitty fries to the side. “Well…”

I shrug both shoulders, feeling more confused than I’ve ever been in my life. “I don’t know.”

“How will you feel if she walks out of your life and you never see her again.”

My stomach twists into a tight knot at the very thought of her disappearing into nothingness. “That would suck.”

“And if she sticks around, you guys date, and maybe eventually get married?”

My upper lip curls as I growl under my breath. “Shut up.”

“Pussy,” he teases. “How would you feel?”

“Asher, I’m scared shitless.”

“Of what?”

“What if she’s the one and the life I’ve always known is over?”

He nods because if anyone understands me, it’s my cousin Asher. We’ve been thick as thieves forever. We were a terrible threesome until Trace got his balls all twisted and ended up with his ass married. “I got you. We can’t stay shitheads forever, though. We need to grow up eventually.”

“We do?”

He waves his hand across the table, pretending to smack me. “You’re a jackass.”

“You’re the one taking a break from a kick-ass chick.”

“I’m going to give her twenty-four hours before I chase after her and beg for forgiveness. You haven’t lived until you’d have makeup sex.”

“Don’t try to sell me on relationships. I can’t trust you either. You’re just like the rest of them.”

He rolls his eyes. “I would never lie to you. If you have even a sliver of feelings for her, don’t sell yourself short. Chase after her. Make her yours.”

“I’ve never chased anyone before.”

“Maybe that’s why you like her so much.”

“It’s fucked up.”

“You keep saying that, but you’re the one making it more complicated than it is. You’re not asking her to marry you right now, jagoff. Date the chick for a little while and then figure your shit out.”

“Date only her?”

He sighs. “God, you are an idiot.”

I give him my middle finger.

The waitress sets two beers on the table and wanders off before we can even say thank you.

Asher grabs his bottle, tilting it toward me. “A toast,” he says, waiting for me to grab mine. When I do, he continues, “To growing up and falling in love.”

I glare at him, not bothering to tap my bottle to his. “You’re still an asshole.”

“You’re salty when you’re in love.”