Page 70 of That Kind of Guy

Emmett was doing all this so that his best friend’s family could have a better life. So they could return home. My father never would have done that.

“I’m getting tired,” I told him with a small smile, holding eye contact with his light grey eyes.

“Oh, yeah?” His voice was soft as he leaned down to graze his mouth on my ear.

My breath caught and my eyes fluttered closed. “Yep. Exhausted.”

“We should get you home, then.”

I bit my lip with excitement.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me down the dim hallway, past the lockers and display cases with trophies and pictures, past the empty administrative office, and out the front doors. In the parking lot, I struggled to keep up with his long strides in my heels, so he stopped, bent over, and hoisted me over his shoulder.

“Put me down, you caveman!” I yelled, laughing.

“You’re too slow.” I could hear the laugh in his voice as well.

He practically pushed me into the car. I couldn’t stop laughing, but the pressure that had been building in me for weeks had settled between my legs I was breathless and antsy at the thought of what might happen in my apartment in about twenty minutes.

Emmett and I were totally going to have sex.

I had to give the guy credit—he drove the speed limit the entire way to my house.

I turned to him. “Miri’s turtles move faster than you. Now who’s too slow?”

He shot me a cheeky grin. “Adams, I’m a law-abiding citizen, and you’re a bad influence on me.”

“You have no idea.” I gave him my most devious smile.

His gaze darkened, and I inhaled sharply, squeezing my thighs together. My center pulsed and I bit my lip, staring out the window. This was so on. The tension had been building between Emmett and I, and now we were going to let it free and have the best sex ever. I just knew, looking at him, the way he moved, so confident and self-assured, that he was going to tear my dress off the second we got inside my apartment, probably before I even closed the door.

He parked the car in front of my place, and I was halfway up the path around the side of the house before he had turned the engine off. He jogged to catch up with me.

“I hope your little friend wears earplugs,” he said to me under his breath as we turned the corner.

I snorted but stopped abruptly when we came face to face with all the guys who lived downstairs, standing in the backyard in the dark, hauling their belongings out of the house and into plastic bags.

“What’s going on? Did you get evicted?” It wouldn’t be the first time someone downstairs had been kicked out.

Carter stepped forward, and Emmett straightened before his arm locked around my waist. I bit back a grin—I kind of loved how jealous he was. I had zero plans to do anything with Carter, but I didn’t mind seeing Emmett lose his mind over me.

“Bad news, Lazer,” Carter told us. “We have bedbugs.”

Emmett and I froze, looking at all the bags of stuff, and Emmett pulled me back a step from Carter. I could feel the expression of horror and hesitation on my face.

“Um. Gross.” I glanced upstairs at my front door. “Do you think they’re—”

“Don’t even think about it, Adams. There’s no way in hell either of us is going inside your apartment.”

Carter waved his hand. “Bro, I’m sure her place is fine.”

Emmett gave him the coldest look I’d ever seen. “Actually,bro, bedbugs can crawl into other units through light sockets.”

I winced at him. “Really?”

He nodded with an equally grossed-out expression, and I shuddered. I pictured lifting up my bedsheets, and seeing the little dark dots moving around. I shuddered again.

“I don’t want to go in there,” I told Emmett. “Don’t make me.”

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