I'm Not Your Enemy (Enemies 2)

He burst out a laugh that made me grin.

“I like being your beast.” He hugged me to him and closed the duvet around us. “You wanna get some more sleep?”

I nodded. I could’ve fallen asleep right there if my feet weren’t poking out from all the warm layers. “Yeah, my toes are freezin’.”

I got up reluctantly and quickly kicked it up a notch, because as soon as I was out of the duvet, it was so cold that my balls wanted to crawl back into my body.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, that ain’t right!” I hurried back inside the bedroom and threw the duvet onto the bed.

Half expecting Sebastian to find my outburst funny and possibly too dramatic, I was a little disappointed when he didn’t react at all.

He seemed distracted by something.

“You okay?” I got under the covers and sat down on the mattress.

“Yeah, I was just thinking.” He set our dishes on his little bar cart for now, then joined me in bed. “I owe you an apology too. No matter the reason, no matter how hurt I was, I’ve treated you horribly since you got back.” He found my hand under the duvet and threaded our fingers together. “When Soph started defending you, I became livid—even when I saw with my own eyes that you were doing everything to redeem yourself.”

“Sebastian, you don’t have to apologize for anything. I deserved—”

“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” he interjected. “And the thing is, I knew exactly when my words packed a punch. It made me sick to see you get hurt. To see that I was hurting you.”

This was quickly becoming uncomfortable because I didn’t wanna think back on that time anymore. I’d been miserable, just like he had.

“But shit’s good now.” I scooted closer and nudged him back against the pillows. “Water under the bridge and all that.”

He smiled faintly and gathered his arms around me. “There’s one more thing. You’re not gonna like it.”

Urgh. My brain instantly registered the subtle humor in his tone, but fuck if my stomach didn’t drop and fill with dread.

“When I found out you’d skipped town,” he said soberly, “I told Sophia that the biscuits you made me weren’t very good.”

I closed my eyes and dropped my forehead to his chest. Oh, he thought he was being funny. I felt him shake with silent laughter, all while I was thanking God it wasn’t anything serious. I needed help.

“You asshole,” I groaned.

The fucker didn’t stop laughing. He threw the duvet over us, and he fucking howled. Which eventually turned into wheezing giggles, and…well, who the fuck could stay mad at that? He had the richest, most masculine voice, and hearing it dissolve into a giggle fit was something else.

I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Pushing away the duvet again, I got a look at his gorgeous face and the stunning smile he was sporting, and it was just everything to me. He was really happy.

“But you only said that ’cause you were mad, right?” I had to make sure. “You had four of them and kept the rest for leftovers.”

It’d been a good evening. I’d cooked for him, real Southern home cookin’, and he’d had three servings of Nana Margaret’s roast beef, served with mashed potatoes, roasted carrots, green beans, and my buttermilk-cheddar biscuits.

“No, I promise—” Sebastian reached down and grabbed my ass. “I’m a big fan of your biscuits. The ones you bake too.”

Good. It was the only thing I knew how to bake, and it was kinda my claim to fame.

I dumped my laundry in the back of the truck and fastened Percy and Oppy’s carrier, then made my way back to where Sebastian waited in the doorway. “Remind me again of why I gotta leave?”

He squinted for the sun and pulled off a sleepy smile. “I gotta head up to see Pops.”

Right. And then he had work tonight. And tomorrow night, and the evening after that too.

I’d earned my break from work, but time was beginning to run out. No matter how frugally I tended to live, I had to find a job soon. Starting my own business was pretty appealing, though that would have to come down the road.

“You know what you could do?” He dipped his fingers into my jeans and tugged me into his embrace. “Come by the restaurant tonight, and I’ll have dinner waiting for you.”

An offer I couldn’t refuse. “I’ll be there. I have a feelin’ my second visit will be different from the first.”

“I sure hope so.” He rumbled a chuckle and kissed me. “You pissed me off the other day—the constant hollering of ‘Bartender!’”

My grin turned sheepish. “I was jealous of that motherfucker you were with.”

He hummed. “I already texted him. Said it wasn’t a good time to explore anything—even friendship—and I didn’t wanna give him false hope.”