Page 30 of Inferno

“Say sorry.” I bite back a grin.

He growls, so I tug back just a tiny bit more, and he screams out like a little bitch.

He knows not to fight back in this position.

“Fine. I’m sorry.”

I release him and he almost stumbles into the wall, and I can’t hide my laughter.

“Asshole. I’ll see you in the morning,” I chirp.

I flip him off and stroll out of his door, slamming it behind me.

Adrenaline fuels me as I jog to the stairs.

Now I do need a drink so I don’t go back in there and shatter his skull.

By the time I get to the bottom, I’ve calmed down slightly.

I’m less murdery.

Tugging my black dress down, I fluff up my long, big curls with my fingers and head to the restaurant area.

I hear the deep laughs and chattering from the main doors to my left, and as I take another step forward, I collide into something.

Holding out my hands to break the impact, I look up, completely flustered—into those beautiful blue eyes.

The air gets trapped in my throat, my mouth falls open, and it’s like my brain turns to mush in his presence.

“S-sorry,” I stutter.

His eyes track up my body, not in a creepy way, but in an appreciative way.

Especially when a smirk tugs on his lips.

“We need to stop meeting so aggressively, sweetheart.”

God. His Irish accent melts me. My heart rate spikes as I take another step back.

I need space from him to think.

“I didn’t punch you in the dick this time. Improvements.”

I grin as I speak.

My cheeks start to flush, he clearly notices as he shoves his hands in the pocket of his black shorts.

I can’t help but stare at those muscular arms, smothered in dark ink. And those veins that protrude from his hands and forearms. He clearly works out.

“Heading in for a drink?” He points behind him.

I nod, but words don’t follow.

“Would you care to join me?” he asks.

And I freeze.

Rubbing my hand along my forearm, I open my mouth, everything inside me is screaming to say “yes”.

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