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I pushed away all thoughts of the irritatingly handsome Irishman stowed in my closet and walked out into the front room, trying to look as unflustered and boring as I'm sure Sofia imagined me.
"What were you doing?" she asked. "You're out of breath."
Okay, maybe I wasn't doing such a great job. "You scared the shit out of me. I thought I locked the front door."
Sofia held up a key. "You did. You gave me a spare, remember?"
"So, you though breaking and entering was a good idea?"
Luca had been quiet until this point, but he frowned at me, folding his arms across his broad chest. "You weren't answering your phone."
Guilt flooded through me. Luca always worried about me. Sofia pouted. "Come on, Em, can't you put the books down for one night? It's Friday, and we're young. We should be out living."
"Not all of us want to be social butterflies."
"More like hermit bookworm, don't you think?" Sofia arched an eyebrow. I glared at Luca, who at least had the decency to appear apologetic.
"Leave her alone, Sof,” he said. “Emilia likes her hermit bookworm lifestyle."
I sighed. Luca was just trying to placate me, which I usually appreciated, but not tonight. Not with an Irish mobster hiding in my storage closet. "I'm not going out, guys. I can't."
"Why not?" Sofia challenged.
Luca glanced toward the back room, and my stomach plummeted. How long would Alfie stay silent, especially if I didn't send them away?
"Because...I have inventory." It was a lame excuse, but it was the only one I could come up with.
"You always have inventory," Sofia said. "It's your favorite excuse."
"I happen to like inventory."
Luca nudged my arm. "Come on, Em. It's just one night. You work too hard."
In another life, those dark eyes of Luca's might have done something to me, the way they seemed to see right through to your soul and still welcome you home. Luca was going to break hearts one day, but it wasn't going to be mine.
"I can't," I repeated.
Sofia opened her mouth, but Luca touched her shoulder and gave a slight shake of his head. She relented. "All right, fine. We’re going out tomorrow, though. Deal?"
"Deal." I sighed, relieved they weren't putting up a fight.
Luca and Sofia both kissed me on the cheek and headed for the door. "Lock up after us," Luca called over his shoulder. The way he said it sounded more like concern than Angel or Dom’s possessive bullying.
"I will." I waited until they were gone, then bolted the door.
This was a disaster.
I took a deep breath and walked back into the storage room. Alfie leaned casually against the wall with his arms crossed over his leather jacket. In the bookstore’s soft lighting, he looked even more dangerous than I remembered, sharp, emerald eyes that missed nothing, tattoos standing out boldly against his pale skin. Ink stained his knuckles, the back of his hands, even crept down his neck beneath his shirt. I wondered just how much of his body they covered.
I shivered. Alfie arched an eyebrow, a slow smirk curling his lips. "See anything you like, sweetheart?"
Heat crawled up my neck. "Don't flatter yourself. What are you still doing here?"
"You were the one who shoved me in a closet."
"I panicked."
"Rude." Alfie cocked his head. "I'm starting to get the impression my presence embarrasses you."
