Inferno - Chelle Bliss by Chelle Bliss

I turn in my chair, facing him head on. “You mean better, right?”

“Jesus,” he mumbles. “You’ve been with Fran and Ma a little too much. They’re wearing off on you.”

“Is that a yes?” I challenge him, tilting my head and waiting for a response.

“Do we need to have another round like we did with the bat to prove who’s right?”

“What?” Mia asks with her eyebrows drawn together and her eyes pinned on her son. “What about a bat?”

Stone shakes his head slowly and sighs. “It was nothing, Ma. We were doing some self-defense exercises.”

“He had to prove a point.” And while I may have lost the exercise, what happened afterward was worth the embarrassment.

“Well, did I prove it, or did you?” He smirks because he’s thinking about that evening too. “If I remember right, we were both winners that night.”

My face instantly heats. I don’t need a mirror to know I’m blushing like a teenage girl.

“Ah, the food,” Mia says, turning the attention away from us.

The waitress sets down three plates before her eyes land on Stone. Her entire body language changes as she soaks in his good looks and massive size.

“What would you like?” she asks him, but her voice is so husky, I’m sure she’d offer up herself as a meal if he asked.

“A salad. Whatever’s quickest,” he tells her, paying her no attention.

She doesn’t scurry away. She’s too busy ogling him to leave so soon. “Anything to drink?”

“Water is fine.” He reaches out and places his hand on my arm, making it known we’re together, together and dashing the waitress’s dreams.

“She liked you,” I tell him as I grab a fork with my free hand, keeping my voice low because Fran and Mia have started their own conversation.

“So do a lot of people, but there’s only one person I care about.”

“Stop,” I tell him, feeling that same heat back in my cheeks.

He runs his thumb back and forth across my skin, staring at me. “You okay?”

I nod as I stuff my face with the most divine chopped salad. “Yep,” I say, but it comes out all garbled because, of course, he has to ask me a question after the food’s already in my mouth.

“Good.” His shoulders visibly relax. “Are you sleeping at my place tonight, or are we sleeping at yours?”

I look at his aunt and mom out of the corner of my eye, hoping they’re not paying attention to us. I don’t know why it weirds me out, but it does. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“My place, then. I have the better bed, and the two shower heads don’t hurt either.”

I can’t argue with that. My place isn’t shitty, but it’s nowhere near as nice as his. He built his for his pleasure, whereas I was doing anything to survive, and finding an apartment on a budget and at the last minute didn’t leave much room for fancy amenities.

“Maybe you two should stay with us,” Mia says as she cuts her steak. “You’d be safer than on your own.”

My stomach sinks. Not because I don’t like Mia, but because I’ve already put enough people in danger. I don’t want to add more to my list.

“We’re safe at my place, Ma, and more comfortable, but we appreciate the offer,” he answers, saving me from the awkward conversation.

“Can’t have loud sex at the parents’ house,” Fran adds, plunging us right into embarrassing and awkward, almost giving me whiplash.

If I could crawl under the table and disappear, I would. But instead, I keep my eyes on my bowl, poking at the lettuce and jamming a big forkful into my mouth.

“Fran,” Stone warns.

“What?” she answers innocently. “I’m only stating the obvious.”

Ma rubs the back of her neck and says, “I’m not a fool, Fran. Stone’s been having sex for longer than I’d like to admit, but I’m sure he could keep it in his pants for one day.”

Fran snorts. “Did you forget what it’s like to be in your twenties? It’s on their mind every moment of the day.”

“Some things don’t change with age,” Mia responds.

“Ma, please. Stop,” Stone begs. “I like to pretend you and Pop never do that stuff.”

It’s Mia’s turn to laugh. “Honey, how do you think you got here?”

“An accident the one time you did it.”

“And Lily?”

“The other time.”

Mia’s laughter grows louder for a second, bubbling out of her. “You’re precious and every bit your father’s son.”

“Can we stop the sex talk, please? I’m begging.”

Mia nods at her son, but the smile hasn’t left her face. “You know, if you’re not careful, you could have an accident too.”

“We’ve already discussed this. We’re having at least four. Depends on when we get started.” He’s so casual with his answer and so sure of himself.

“Really?” Mia asks, but I can’t read her face.

Oh boy. We had a one-time conversation about a possible future together, and he’s already telling his family like it’s set in stone. We’ve known each other such a short time, and the talk of a fairy-tale life was great at the time, but the chance of it becoming reality is still a toss-up.