“I’m sure I would,” I tell her, giving her a smile. But I have my doubts that they’d like me. Lumberjacks and gladiators and they’d kick your ass for touching their little sister. My mind immediately starts to conjure a future where we do a meet-the-family, hers and mine—
But I shut the daydream down. GET A GRIP. Inara said she wanted to experience some things; she didn’t say she wanted to grow hardcore feelings and move in together. Be casual, I warn myself. Don’t confuse phenomenal sex with a real relationship.
Problem is, I’ve never done anything but real relationships. Serious ones. Ones that, to this day, I’ve spent too many nights awake, berating myself for letting them end.
And why did they end?
They moved away from Chicago. And I get it; this city can be a huge pain, and for the parking alone I’ve considered getting away from it all. But… my whole family is here. My people, my tribe, my clan. Also, my work is here. Basically, everything I know.
I’ve never budged on the issue of relocating, but I’ve kicked myself a thousand times for letting a good woman walk out the door without me.
I watch Inara as she gathers her shower things, thinking that there’s no way staying in Chicago is even an option for her, because she sticks out like a sore thumb. Eventually someone is going to question how her alien costume can be so flawless.
I eye her horns, and her beautiful blue skin and then glance down at her tail, which is sitting on top of my foot, curled loosely around my ankle.
“Eventually, I expect my brothers to find me and drag me home,” Inara is saying just as I’m questioning how long we can conceivably hide her in plain sight.
She’s LEAVING, idiot. Don’t make plans and do NOT get more attached unless you want to set yourself up for a world of heartache.
“Until then,” she’s saying, “I want to see everything of this world that I can,” she goes on.
“I volunteer,” I blurt.
“For?”
Anything. “I’ll take you.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere you want to go. Anything you want to do. I’ll be there. Be right beside you.”
Oh, way to go, Matthew. That’s how you protect your heart?
You are so screwed.
CHAPTER 16
Work goes smoothly. Word of mouth has spread about how cool Inara’s room is (her, really), and business is hopping.
All night long, I smile at people and watch Stacy’s eyes turning into dollar signs like she’s Scrooge McDuck as she amasses a stack of credit card receipts.
My eyes should probably be turning into dollar signs too. But in actuality, I’m thinking of Inara. Naked Inara. And the hours cannot go by fast enough.
I don’t want to assume that Inara wants sex when we get back to my place. But still, it’s all I can think about. That, and her scent. It’s driving me crazy. I’m hyperaware of her smell on me, on my clothes—and being that I spent some time in her bag as I helped her steal my coffee mug this morning, I know for a fact she travels light in the cosmetics department. She didn’t bring any makeup and her soap is not exactly shampoo (plus, it smells like exactly nothing) and I saw no bottles of perfume.
So how can she smell this good? It’s strong, clinging to me today; even Stacy noticed it.
(Yeah, she gave me wide eyes that encouraged me to give her permission to ask about it. I did not give her permission. When she point-blank asked if Inara and I hooked up, I just stared at her until she received the message that her line of questioning needed to shut down.)
So I’m alone in my thoughts and surrounded by Inara’s scent on me and it’s driving me batshit. But I keep it together. When it’s finally, frickin’ finally time to clock out, I take one look at her, and I’m ready to leap on her. If I’m reading her right, she feels the same way about me. I’m so fucking excited to get home alone with her it’s not even funny.
We walk Stacy to her car, endure Stacy’s knowing smirk and bright white smile of glee and then I walk Inara to her side of the Boss, open her door for her, and she asks, “Are we going to have sex soon?”
I pull my groan up from the bottoms of my toes. “Please, God, yes.”
We get through the door of my apartment in time to attack each other like starving animals.
And that’s pretty much how the next week goes.
But every morning before work, we cram absolutely every opportunity to sightsee and spend time together. When we’re not sightseeing, we have a lot of great sex. But we do a lot of normal stuff too. I take her to a high school basketball game. Sal is point guard for the team, and we go to show support. We cheer like psychos, and Inara is hilariously bloodthirsty in the second half, when home team is up by two points and the clock is ticking down on the scoreboard.
“Ease up, woman! They’re hoops players, not gladiators.” I chuckle and wrap my arm around her shoulders.
“Does this mean they won’t be eating the organs of their vanquished opponents?” Inara asks, looking a little disappointed.
I do a full-out double take. “Come again?”
She looks at me sharply. “You want me to come? Here?” She looks around cagily and her eyes darken as she leans closer and whispers, “Now?”
That’s how we spend our fifteen minutes of halftime. We hunt for a washroom far away from the normal foot traffic, lock the door, and bang out a quickie.
We race back in time to catch the end of the game. Sal’s team wins, Inara makes a shrill scream of excitement that causes our section of the bleachers to freeze and go dead silent, and I still don’t know the story on her gladiator brothers’ habits of eating their downed opponents, but Inara leaves a little bummed that there’s no organ-munching.
I take Inara to the lake. She loves the water just as much as any human and she swims like a crocodile, which is both awesome and a little frightening to see.
We do every tourist thing imaginable, and it’s the worst idea I’ve ever had.
The more I spend time with Inara, the more I grow to like her. And I already liked her.
But she can’t stay.
Inara can’t be mine.
***
I check my watch, then tug my sleeve back into place, calling, “Yo, babe. Still want to go to the Planetarium?”
Inara makes a humming noise in the frunchroom, and when I walk out to meet her, she unfolds from the couch and stretches, drawing my eye and changing the direction of my thoughts.
She approaches me lazily, her luscious hips swaying. Sliding her arms around my shoulders and locking her wrists behind my head, she brings her mouth close to mine. “Why don’t we stay home?”
Her lips tease mine, not quite kissing.
“Whatever you want,” I tell her in a daze.
Her ears swing back and she flat-out grins at me, pulling away far enough we can stare into each other’s eyes. Hers sparkle. “You won’t mind?”
I catch her waist, and pull her hips to mine. “I just want to be with you.”
Her eyes soften. Her tail wraps around my forearm, stroking and giving me a slender python’s squeeze. She starts to speak—then closes her mouth. She shakes her little horns and tries again, putting the tiniest bit of distance between us. “Can I interest you in crafting with me?”